


2013

by PCBW



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: 11:59, Course: Oblivion, Relativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 170
Words: 194,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCBW/pseuds/PCBW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A big thank you to Ke Roth who let me piggy back off of her idea!  AU JC romance that picks up late season 6/early season 7</p><p>*Finished* </p><p>Thank you again to everyone who read and left comments and kudos.  Such loveliness!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"So..."

He glanced over the sparse dinner table. Dinner conversation had been stilted this evening. Well, he mused, it had been stilted over the past few months – that is, when they had dinner...

She didn't look at him; rather she sat uncomfortably, fiddling aimlessly with her uneaten dinner. "Hmm?" Her tone was petulant, childlike. 

"No," He shook his head. "I was just thinking…"

She looked up, eyeing him cynically."About?"

Kathryn knew how she was looking at him; like a spoilt child who'd been caught disobeying their parents. And she knew she had no reason to treat him like this, to act so churlish. But she couldn't help it recently; she couldn't seem to get herself out of this terrible rut. In a swirling, deep whirl pool of complacent melancholy, she was lost.

He said something but she wasn't paying attention. "I'm sorry?"

"I said," He enunciated slowly, his frustration with her starting to seep through his soft voice. "' _Seven years_.'"

"Seven years?"

"It's been almost seven years since we got stranded here in the Delta Quadrant."

"Oh," She mused, not knowing his reason for saying it. "What's your point?"

"Nothing, Kathryn," He sighed, stifling the urge to roll his eyes as he put down his fork. "Maybe I shou-"

" _Tuvok to the Captain_."

She tapped her comm. badge. "Go ahead, Tuvok."

"We have picked up anomalous readings on sensors. Shall we alter course?"

She looked to him and he nodded, already out of his seat. "Yes, alter course; we're on our way."

Nothing more was said of dinner as the two officers hastily made their way to the bridge.

"Tuvok, report!" Her command was predictable as she descended the steps to her chair.

The view screen shifted, zeroing in on a nebula-like anomaly. "What is it?" She walked to Tom's chair, perching behind it as she stared, mesmerised by the swirls of green and purple.

Chakotay walked up behind her, his proximity close if for no other reason than to share her view.

"Unknown, Captain," Harry volunteered.

"Can we get any closer?" Her voice was dream-like, far off.

"Negative," Tuvok responded. "Voyager is too large to get sufficiently close to take further readings."

"Is there any danger?" She was fascinated, having never seen anything like it in her life. She found the beauty awe-inspiring and, with practised urge, she couldn't help but want to know more.

"It is not likely. Howev-"

"Commander," She turned to Chakotay, her body brushing against his as she turned. "Accompany me to Shuttle Bay Two; we're going to have a closer look."

"Captain," Tuvok's voice was predictably cautionary. "We do not know anything about the anomaly-"

"Tuvok..."| Kathryn wasn't in the mood to be argued with; She felt bad about dinner, about being so truculent with him.  And this might, she thought, be just what they needed -  something to do together. They had been fighting for months now and it seemed like the days kept bringing hardships that further tore away from the best friendship she had ever known. And, if she was honest, something more. "Keep a transporter lock on us. We'll be back soon!"

He moved to object, but she placated him, patting him gently on the shoulder as she walked past.  "We'll be fine," She soothed, one foot in the turbolift. "You have the bridge."

* * *

 

"It's beautiful, isn't it Chakotay?" She smiled, glancing at him over her shoulder as she manipulated the shuttle sensors. Nearly in vain, she hoped that something would spark between them again; that they could mend this chasm that she had built.

She wasn't immune to it - the distance that had come between them and the subsequent bitterness that had followed. Their separation had been slow, centimetre by centimetre - done so subtly that they hadn't taken notice of it until a deep, craggy flume had formed. If she was honest with herself, she knew it was her own doing - her own fears, her own  _pride_  that stood between them. And she knew - knew intimately - that if the cracks in their once solid rapport remained, they would only grow. And grow to a point where, in the not too distant future, he wouldn't want to look at her. But like the man in Plato's cave unable to see the light, so she too was unable to see any way around their combined misery.

"Mmm," he shrugged noncommittally.

Not too long ago, Chakotay would have been ecstatic to be alone with her – to have her all to himself. He pictured them together; laughing, joking about Tom's antics, Seven's quirky traits, something funny Naomi said or did... They would flirt, skimming on the balance beam of friendship and something more. But now, he was just angry with her – at his wits end. And soon, he thought, he wouldn't even want to look at her.

Unexpectedly, the console lit up and the small shuttle jolted. "Kathryn?"

"I know," She tore her eyes away from the shimmering beauty in front of them. Sensor readings were off the charts - data coming in so fast that it was scrambling the interface.

"Chakotay," Her voice was terrified, shaky as the shuttle rocked back and forth - the movement not barely compensated for by intertial dampeners. "It's the anomaly!" It was pulling the shuttle in, and she was panicking. "Reverse thrusters!"

Though his fingers danced frantically on the console, his work was meaningless. "I am! Nothing's happening!" The anomaly was like quick sand; the harder the struggle, the quicker the pull. "Kathryn! It's not working!"

"We're being pulled in," A cold sweat broke out over her lip and she could feel the pooling of moisture in her palms and down her back. "Janeway to Tuvok!" She tapped her comm. badge in haste.

Nothing. There was no response. "Communicators are offline!"

"Transporters?!" She frantically searched the computer's system.

He shook his head and glanced at her, fear settling in his veins as the swirling blue pulled them closer, the scintillating miasma settling around them.

"They should have beamed us out by now!" Kathryn shouted. "Computer, lock onto Commander Chakotay's and my biosignatures and beam us directly to Voyager!"

But the computer didn't respond. Everything was offline.

Chakotay's eyes locked with hers. " _Kathryn_!"

She looked to him, terrified and looking for purchase, and took his hand, holding so tightly that her nails dug into his palms. So much unsaid, she thought - so much undone. But there was nothing to do - nothing to say, and nothing to feel other than utter terror as they helplessly held on tight and prayed to storied Gods and Spirits for their unseen, irresolute hand of provision.


	2. Chapter 2

Alive. That was the first word that entered his mind as he looked around the smoking console and battered bulkheads. He was alive.

 _Kathryn_. Immediately a sinking feeling settled into his stomach. " _Kathryn_?" He croaked, his voice groggy and sluggish from concussion. " _Kathryn?"_

But she didn't answer - the only response was the gas leaking from the shuttle's port panels.

He looked to his right to where she was sitting when he finally registered her hand in his. That was when he saw her; wisps of auburn obscured her face, her features hidden from him.

"Kathryn," he repeated her name once more into the hissing emptiness of the shuttle. "Kathryn, can you hear me?"

Moving stiffly, like an automaton in slow motion, he felt her neck. A pulse, he nearly shouted for joy; _she had a pulse_! He watched for the steady rise and fall of her chest to find it measured and reassuring.

His hand coming up to wipe his own groggy features, he tried to remember. The last thing he recalled was being pulled into the anomaly - the terror they felt, the look on Kathryn's face. But nothing more. Where were they? What had happened? They weren't on Voyager; the view screen was black, and the shuttle was silent. And cold - bone chillingly cold.

Keeping Kathryn's hand in his, he tried to activate the console, but there was no use; all systems were down even life support. Well, he sighed - glad to be able to breathe- at least wherever they were the atmosphere was compatible with life.

Ambling over to the back of the shuttle he pried open a med kit and took out a tricorder. He ran it over himself; no serious injuries, just a bruised rib and a cut on his forehead - which he now felt.

Kathryn, though – there was swelling, some minor cerebral oedema likely explaining her loss of consciousness. But, thankfully, the readout was in yellow – not life threatening. He breathed a sigh of relief, but worry still gnawed at him when he looked at her unconscious form as he loaded a hypospray and pressed it into her neck. Maybe it would do some good.

He pushed her hair back from her face, cognisantly thankful one more time that she was all right. It was getting colder quickly and he knew they couldn't stay in the shuttle indefinitely. They were both wearing their comm. badges, he reminded himself; Voyager would be able to locate them using those. Staying in the shuttle wouldn't proffer them any real benefit.

In the aft compartment, he found extra coats suited for cold weather exploration. Taking them out, he donned the warm Starfleet issue garment and wrapped the other around Kathryn's listless form. She moaned softly as he moved her, but showed no other signs of waking.

He noticed his breath meet and billow in the icy air and he knew to get them moving, even if he had to carry her. The atmosphere here was compatible with life; maybe he could find help, warmer shelter. He prayed that the inhabitants of this planet - or wherever they were - were hospitable.

His first battle would be opening the shuttle hatch; if he had any luck, the locking jam wouldn't have initiated. A few moments later, he found that he was in luck. Slowly, and with a wincing amount of strength, the hatch opened and the hydraulic mechanism carried it the rest of the way. But relieved as he was, Chakotay wasn't ready for the sight that met his eyes.

White. Everything was  _white_. The world was covered in heaps of white – beautiful, chilling, mounds of fluffy, white untainted snow. He stood for a moment, taking in the quiet and the peacefulness of his surroundings as he again watched his breath puff out before him. He'd never seen anything like it; only on the holodeck. And even in spite of his anxiety over Kathryn and their current state of abandon, he couldn't help but indulge in the beauty of the moment.

Calmly, he surveyed the scene before him. The mien was silent, somnolent and entrenched in the throes of winter. And there was not not a soul in sight.

The milieu was somewhat familiar - the trees did look similar to those he'd seen in some of Kathryn's childhood photos; tall pines mingled with grandiose firs. Walking only a few paces outside the shuttle, he listened more closely.  _There_ , he heard; a source of flowing water wasn't too far off. The snow outside the shuttle was deeper than he thought – up to his shins. And the ground under his feet was frozen, rocky.

Mustering his gumption, he zipped the coat up to his chin and squared his shoulders before he turned back into the shuttle to collect his companion. She was light in his arms and fit easily into the crooks of his elbows. Once more his eyes scanned the panorama in front of him - taking in the dark shadows of the trees and the pale beauty of the winter's solstice. It was beautiful, yes - but not for the first time did he feel that sense of trepidation that came in waves - hitting just as palpably as the snow seeping into his boots.


	3. Chapter 3

She was light as he supported her, her head lolling over onto his shoulder as he stepped further into the deep snow. " _I'm sorry,"_  He whispered. " _I'm so sorry, Kathryn."_

Though all things considered, Chakotay couldn't help but think that their situation was all his fault. It had even been a running joke on Voyager for years: how many shuttles could Chakotay lose? And now, he thought, he hadn't only lost a shuttle; he'd put their lives in danger.

The wind picked up, blowing a dusting of the snow into his face. It was chilling, more so than he thought it would be, even in these warm coats. The cold kept seeping into his leather boots, turning to icy liquid and robbing more heat.

He wasn't used to this. He once laughed at Kathryn when she said she missed winters in Indiana. He couldn't imagine why. He'd been relatively isolated from the cold all his life; Dorvan had been a warm planet, so had Trebus. And when he moved to Earth, he had found San Francisco to have a temperate enough climate. Other than a few scant away missions, he couldn't remember a time in his life where he'd had to bundle up or trudge through mounds of snow like he was doing now.

He felt her breathe, steady and warm, against the skin of his neck. It was calming, he thought - assuring him that she was alive.

Chakotay looked back, worried about leaving the shuttle so exposed. Still not sure of where they were, he worried about someone finding it. But, he measured from this distance, the trees and the rocky crag obscured it well enough. He would have to deal with it eventually, but hopefully Voyager would find them before then.

He made his way through the tall trees, their pines casting a darker shadow over an already dim day. In spite of the anxiety, he felt himself strangely and uncharacteristically at peace. He couldn't remember being anywhere so beautiful. It had been so long since they had been off the ship, steeped in natural beauty. Parts of him missed the not too distant past - when their mission had been dual; to get home, but also to explore and forage for data while on the way. Perhaps it was just his longing mood, but he remembered a more recreational pace - time taken to enjoy and leisure in the planets they came across. And then, there was New Earth. The memory of the place was painful. Though chronologically not too distant, he and Kathryn were different people then. They were happier, he thought - and had such a sense of technicolour innocence.

Those days were gone, though. And that virtue had been lost somewhere. He missed who they were - how they were. He missed her smile, her laugh - he just missed her. There were days now when he looked at her, wondering if she was the same woman who he'd fallen in love with all those years ago or if some alien had come and stolen her place. He hugged her close to his body, willing her to come back to him.

Maybe, if she woke up, they could fix things - they could make them better again. Maybe they could make it work.

The scant light that had illuminated the cloudy sky when they had first set out was quickly fading and soon it would be pitch black. There was nothing to guide him - no lights, and only the sound of rushing water. He would have used the tricorder if he'd hands to operate it, but in its absence, he walked in a straight line, using the tall trees as his guide. Silently, he offered his situation up to his Spirits - perhaps they would hear him, maybe guide him. But in their absence, he kept on.

Sighing, Chakotay looked again at the form of his sleeping captain and friend. Absentmindedly, he kissed her forehead, nuzzling her hair - revelling in the incongruous moment of being able to be close to her for no other reason than he wanted comfort - assurance of her safety.

" _Please be okay, Kathryn_ ," he whispered. " _Please don't leave me_."


	4. Chapter 4

For the first time, he felt her truly stir. “ _Kathryn_?” Numb arms drew her closer to him as he tried to get another rise out of her.  But her only response was to nuzzle closer into his shoulder. She seemed unconcerned, not unconscious, but not awake. 

If she were awake, there would have been an argument, or six, by now. She would have raised questions - would have blamed him, he thought; likely she would have been angry, frantic and panicked. But at the very same time, he wished for her to see the snow with him. He wanted to share that with her - to hear her tell him this was just like Indiana; to see the grimace on her face when the snow soaked into her boots...  Chakotay loved experiencing things with her; more so, he simply loved _being_ with her. Even when they were arguing, even when he thought he couldn’t take any more of it – he still wanted to be near her, to breathe her in, to watch her facial expressions - even the ones made in anger.

The forest seemed to go on forever in homogenous infinity. He remembered the forest on New Earth, but this was still so different.  New Earth's had clearings, brambly trees, knobby undergrowth. This, though - now he couldn't discern where he was, what direction he was going.  If he was even going in one or just continuing in circles!  But then, just as despair was about to set in, his Spirits seemingly heard his cry and a clearing became visible ahead. From a distance, a road was just in sight. 

She moved again, this time her arms slipping around his neck. “ _Chakotay_ ,” she whispered softly before her breathing deepened and normalised again. 

The closer he got to the road, the more that ran through his mind.  A road meant civilisation - people, perhaps. _Were they hospitable?  Would communication be a barrier?  How far was he from help?  Would they help him?  Were they warp capable?  Could he contact Voyager?_  A thousand more things ran through his head at a dizzying pace so much that he barely heard the sound behind him until a loud horn jolted him out of his thoughts.   He turned around to see a large vehicle of some sort slowing down and coming towards him. The lights were blinding as they shined in his eye, obscuring the detail of the odd contraption. 

He heard it slow down to a crawling halt before coming to a full stop just in front of him.  At this distance, he thought, it was nearly menacing and beastly.  He stood frozen to the spot, not knowing what to expect; afraid to move when he heard a door open and close.  His body was rigoured and tense and he held Kathryn against him as though his life depended on it.   _I won't let anything happen to you,_ he thought.   _I won't let them take you._   

“Are you okay?” He heard the voice before he saw its owner. It was mellow, warm. And human.  She spoke again, coming into view. “Are you okay, sir?”

Chakotay stuttered, trying to find his voice. “Lost.” Was the only word he could come up with despite his confusion.  

The woman was petite, no bigger than Kathryn.  And her face was kind, wrinkled with age. “Do you need some help?”

“Yes,” He responded dumbly.

She came closer, keeping her eyes on Kathryn as she gingerly touched her forehead, then her neck for a pulse as she scrutinised her in the lights emanating from the truck. But still frightened, Chakotay pulled her away at first, still unsure of the woman. But, she simply looked up at him, and smiled reassuringly. “Just making sure she’s all right.”

He didn’t respond, but his posture relaxed, and the set in his jaw let loose somewhat.

“Why don’t you get in the car and we’ll try sort you two out, hmm?" She waved with her hand back to the large vehicle.  "We’d better get off the road before someone else comes along and makes road kill out of us! It’s getting darker earlier and earlier these days!”

It could have been a trick, for all he knew. But he was so cold, so desperate to get help for Kathryn, and shelter that he went along.

“I’m Jan, by the way,” she grinned as she opened the door for him. “Do you need any help with her?”

“No,” he shook his head, unwilling to relinquish her, as he hoisted himself into the warm vehicle. Jan simply smiled and closed the door, making her way back around to the front.

 “Does she need to go to the hospital?" She looked back at him worriedly and then glanced at Kathryn. "What happened to her?”

“She had a concussion,” He looked down at the sleeping woman. “I think she’s just sleeping now.”

She shifted the car into gear. “How long ago?”

“About an hour.”

“Has she shown any signs of wakefulness since then?”

“Yes. She said my name.”

“I’m worried-“

“I checked her,” He demurred. “She’s okay.”

“She should be,” Jan’s voice strained as she turned the large wheel onto a small path. “We’ll monitor her at the house; there’s a hospital nearby should we need it.  I just don't know how easy it's going to be to get back there in this snow.  Well,” She prattled.  "I'll have Gregg take a look..."  

The ride was smooth, he thought, like the ground cars he used to use in San Francisco.  He could see nothing in the darkness of the night until she turned down a smaller road and with the flick of her wrist the lights shining on the path became brighter. “There’s the house,” She pointed. “I’m afraid we’re in for a big snow storm this evening – the weatherman said we’d be getting another six inches! Can you imagine?” She was amused with herself. “That’s winter in Indiana for you!”


	5. Chapter 5

Chakotay’s heart stopped.

 

_Indiana?_

 

How could they be in _Indiana_?

 

Jan looked back, still smiling - lost to herself in her own amusement. “Did I say something wrong, dear?”

“No,” He forced himself to un-crease his brow. “No. Sorry.” Question after question started to bubble in his mind. _Were they home? This didn’t seem like the twenty fourth century. Was this another one of Braxton’s tricks? Where was Voyager? Would they be able to find them?_

The halting of the car brought a stop to his stormy thought and he took notice of their surroundings in the relative light. They were in front of a large home on what looked to be a sizeable piece of property. The darkness prevented him much into the distance, but in the dim light he could barely make out a smattering of small scattered buildings and what looked to be a large body of water around which the complex was organised.

“Well,” Jan turned off the ignition and turned around. “This is home. Let’s get her inside and check her out. Then we can see about getting you the help you need, hmm?  Is there anyone you-”

“Jan!” A voice called from the house as a lanky older gentleman made his way towards the vehicle. “That’s my husband," Jan looked back at Chakotay.  "Gregg.”

She clamoured out of the car, walking towards a tall, lanky older gentleman. “What is it, honey?” 

“Did you get the groceries? Do you need any help?” He heard him ask before he eyed Chakotay. “And who’s this?”

“I picked up a few stragglers on the side of the road,” She walked back with him towards the vehicle. “I think they’re lost, and might have gotten into an accident-“

“Why didn’t you call the police?” He looked at her, not angry exactly, but with a familiar glint of exasperation.

“He’s not a criminal, Gregg!” She countered.  "Well," Chakotay heard her whisper.  "I don't think he is..."  

He just smiled and nodded his head in familiar resignation. “Okay, honey…”

Suddenly Chakotay felt uncomfortable – well more uncomfortable than he already was. “Hey there," Gregg opened the back door, letting in the cold as he introduced himself. “ My name is Gregg.  Jan tells me you were in an accident.  Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Chakotay swallowed, still holding Kathryn close across his lap.

Gregg took notice of Kathryn and looked at her in much the way his wife had. “Why don’t you bring her inside," He breathed.  "And we’ll see what we can do.”

Chakotay cumbersomely made his way, still holding her gingerly, as Gregg guided him down. “Jan?” The older man looked back at his wife as she collected the groceries from the boot.  

“Yes honey?” Smiled, reappearing alongside him carrying several bags.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, no,” She shook her head and signaled towards the house, her arms full of bags. “Let's just hurry! It’s _cold_ and I want to get inside!”

Their home was warm - a welcome sensation to his frigid bones. Cozy was the only world he could come up with as he looked at the broad layout replete with soft sofas and intricately patterned red carpets. A fire burned against the far wall in the large living area adjacent the entryway and its soft light and warmth lent the house an intimately rich glow.

“Now,” Gregg’s soft voice brought his attention back. “We have a spare bedroom down this way.” He pointed as he started walking, ushering Chakotay into a bedroom at the end of a short hallway.  "You can lay her down on the bed."  

She stirred ever so slightly when her body met the softness of the large bed.   In her sleep, she latched possessively to his arm and started to mumble.  For the first time he felt relief as he could discriminate her fumbling towards wakefulness. In the proper light, he noticed a bruise on her forehead and a small cut just above her cheek.  Another familiar pang of guilt settled in his belly at the sight of them - another physical harbinger that he wasn't able to keep her from harm. Absentmindedly he went to touch both marks, letting his fingers linger as if he were trying to erase them - absolve himself of the sickening guilt.

“How long has she been unconscious?” Gregg’s voice broke through the relative silence.

“A little over an hour… but now I think she’s just sleeping.” 

Gregg moved around the bed, nudging Chakotay out of the way as he bent to her level. “There are no external signs of bleeding.” He gently palpated her skull, noting any irregularities or evidence of haematoma. Briskly he lifted her eyelids. “No pupillary dilation," He said to himself.  "And she's moving...” He sat for a while, still scrutinizing her before levelling his diagnosis. “She should be fine. We’ll leave her here to sleep. It’s not unusual for people who’ve had a concussion to feel tired. Why don’t you follow me out to the kitchen?” He smiled, “I think Jan is making dinner.  Is there anyone you want us to call?”

"Call?"  Chakotay repeated.  

"Or do you have a phone with you?"  Gregg looked at him sideways.  

"No," Chakotay shook his head - realising for the first time how alone he was.  "No," He looked down.  "There's no one."  


	6. Chapter 6

“Would you like to take off your coat?” Gregg asked warmly, smiling that he still had it on.

“Oh, umm, yes,” He bumbled, sliding his arms out of the standard puffy white parka.

“That’s an interesting uniform you’ve got there,” Gregg looked him up and down. “Military?”

“Something like that…” They certainly weren’t in the 24th century, or Gregg would have noticed the insignia on his lapel. A chill ran though him and he noticed that his pant legs were still soaking from the snow, as were his shoes.

“You’re not from around here,” Gregg’s voice was skeptical – cautious as he took in more and more of the stranger in front of him. “Are you?”

“No,” Chakotay shook his head as he handed the bulky coat into Gregg’s outstretched hand.

“Oh. Well...” the older gentleman shrugged. “We don’t see too many people from far away here in Arcadia and when we do they're mostly kids!”

“Oh,” Chakotay offered passively as Gregg led him to a large kitchen. He took in the room; in its vastness, there was no evidence of 24th century replicator technology that he could recognize. In fact, the room looked similar to the kitchens in the houses of the traditionalists on Dorvan. He fondly remembered women who totally eschewed the comforts of the 24th century, relying on stoves and open fires instead to prepare their meals. 

“What’s your name, son?” Gregg asked over the clanging his wife was making with the pans.  

“Chakotay.” He answered simply.

“Chakotay, huh? That’s an interesting name. Don’t think I’ve ever heard that before…” He scratched the back of his head. “Where does it come from?”

“It’s Native American.”

“Native American," He enunciated with broken syllables. "I knew a guy once, Native American, – grew up on a reserve in Wyoming. Brilliant physician!  Specialised in foetal heart surgery... He had a name like yours,” Gregg kept on.  "Can't remember it off the top of my head."  

 “Oh?” It was all he could come up with. "Well," He gave a smile.  "It's not a very common name."  

“I think it’s a beautiful,” Jan smiled as she removed another small container from one of the cabinets.

 “So, how did you into the accident, Chakotay?” Gregg walked around and looked into the fragrant pot she was stirring. “Is your car nearby? Do you need us to call a tow truck?”

Tow truck? What was that? “No,” He stammered, sitting himself into the high stool Gregg pulled out for him. “I don’t know. We’re lost…”

He couldn’t help but notice how cagey he was being; how suspicious he appeared to these two lovely people. He wished he could offer them more, but he still had so many questions himself.

The older couple shared a look of concern and confusion before turning back to him. He could imagine they didn’t know what to make of him; he wouldn’t if he were in their position.

“Well,” Gregg sighed, walking over to the cabinet and removing bowls. “You two can stay with us for the night and then tomorrow you can be on your way.“

“We don’t have anywhere to go,” He looked away, shy, burdened – nervous for what the next day would bring, among other things.

“What do you mean, son?” Gregg turned back to him, laying his palms on the dark marble counter.

“We’re lost,” He was starting to go in circles. “We don’t have anywhere to go.”

Jan’s face dropped and she stopped her movements near the stove. “Well don’t you worry,” Her voice was suffused with kindness. “We'll figure something out..."  She met her husband's concerned gaze as she looked on in compassion before a familiar voice cut in.  

“ _Chakotay_?” A familiar alto echoed from the bedroom. “ _Chakotay_?” She called again before he was out of his seat, meeting her halfway in the corridor.

 “Chakotay," She held her head in her hands as she walked dizzily towards him.   "What’s going on? Where are we?”

Relief washed over him that she was all right.  But, like a welcomed demon, worry immediately took over its stronghold and he panicked over what to tell her. How would he explain this – where they were, when he didn’t fully understand it himself?

“ _Kathryn_ ,” He breathed her in, putting aside everything for now while he looked her up and down, confirming that she was indeed all right. “I, umm,” He moved her out of the hall into the bedroom again. “Kathryn we’re-“

“What?” Her voice was still foggy from sleep, but demanding nevertheless.

“We’re lost.” He kept his voice low. “We were in a shuttle accident. You were unconscious and –“

“Is everything okay, dear?” Jan and Gregg walked into the room, their faces a mix of delight and concern as they too looked Kathryn up and down as he had done not a moment ago.

“Yes,” It never ceased to surprise him how well Kathryn could take control of a situation. Her voice was steady, calm, betraying the confusion she invariably felt.  "I’m Kathryn Janeway,” She smiled appropriately albeit woozily. 

“Jan,” The older lady smiled. “And this is my husband Gregg.” She chuckled, “You gave us all quite a scare there for a while. Your husband was worried sick about you!”

"Oh," Kathryn blushed and looked awkwardly at the man beside her.  “He’s, uh, not my husband.”

“Is that so?” Gregg laughed, his hand meeting the small of his wife's back. “You fooled us then!”

" _Greggory,"_ Jan slapped his shoulder playfully as she continued, “You were out for quite a while. Do you remember what happened?”

Kathryn shook her head. “No.”

“You were in a car crash, from what Chakotay tells us. You don’t remember anything?”

She shook her head again, confusion starting to take root. “Car crash?”

“Yes,” Chakotay covered. “I’m sorry, Kathryn. I was trying to tell you-“

“It’s alright, Chakotay,” Her hand found its way to his chest as more and more of their situation became salient to her. “Thank you for taking us in,” she regarded the older couple warmly.

“It’s our pleasure, dear,” she smiled. “Chak-otay tells us that you don’t have anywhere to go?”

 “We-“ Realisation started to dawn on her as she took in her surroundings. “We’re, uh,” she started to fumble. “We’re-“

“It’s okay, Kathryn,” Jan quieted her with a hand on her arm. “You must be a long way from home. You’re welcome to stay with us until you find your way. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and have some dinner? You must be starving!”

Chakotay took her arm gingerly as they followed the older couple back into the cavernous kitchen. The room smelled fragrant, reminding him of his unfinished dinner on Voyager.

“Vegetarian chilli,” She smiled as she ladled the thick mixture into bowls and set it on the table. “Gregg and I try to eat at least one meatless meal a week – I have this theory that it keeps both of our cholesterol in the green range.”

“Thank you,” Chakotay smiled. “I’m a vegetarian so I’ll like it just fine.”

Kathryn eyed her bowl suspiciously before tucking into it. It had been a while since she’d eaten anything other than Neelix’s leola root creations or whatever she could wriggle out of her replicator un-burnt. This, on the other hand, was a treat. It was warm and flavourful - something she hadn’t really had since she’d been on Earth. She smiled for a second; this tasted like something her mother would make. Jan, she thought, reminded her of her mother – trusting and kind. Still, though, she was full of questions. The captain in her demanded answers – _where were they? Where was Voyager? What had happened? Chakotay had said they were in a car crash – why?_

“So,” Jan looked up from across the table. “Kathryn, what is it that you and Chakotay do?”

“Do?” She had no idea how to answer. And then it hit her; the surroundings, the car crash – the anomaly. Something had happened, she wasn’t quite sure what, but she knew something was deeply wrong. “We’re-“

“I was going to say military,” Gregg smiled at his wife for her curiosity. But questions burned at him as well.

“Military,” Kathryn repeated. “I suppose you could say that.”

“You’re both in uniform – that’s why I asked. But those don’t look familiar to me. You can’t possibly be Army. Navy wears white or blue. And Marines black, or fatigues. Air Force?”

 “Something like that,” she countered.

“I get it,” Gregg smiled conspiratorially; “You’re _special ops_ , aren’t you?”

“Umm,” Chakotay fumbled.

“Honey,” Jan chastised with a hand on her husband’s arm. “Stop, they’re exhausted! Let them be at peace.”

“You're right,” Gregg sighed, his shoulders genuflecting in dejected defeat. “I’m sorry.” He smiled, winking at them before resuming his dinner.

A pit settled in Kathryn’s stomach. She had been in this situation before - the dated surroundings, the mention of the car...; she was out of time. And without warning a vice seemed to set around her head, leaving her with a familiar tension headache just as that leaden weight settled in her stomach. “I think I’m finished,” she looked up, too nauseated to eat anything more. “Would it be alright if I laid down?”

“Of course,” Jan stood. “You know where the bedroom is.” She paused for a moment. “I know you two aren’t married, but we only have the one spare bedroom, and-“

“It’s all right,” Chakotay interrupted as he stood about to follow her; “We can share.”

Jan smiled. “There are extra blankets in the closet and we can lend you two some pajamas. Gregg, would you mind getting Chak-otay some of your sweatpants and a shirt?”

Handing them nightclothes the older couple said their goodnights. “Don’t hesitate to ask for anything. There’s a bathroom ensuite so feel free to take a shower, or a bath. There should be towels, but if you need more there are some in the cabinet in the hallway,” she pointed: “Third door on the left.”

“Goodnight,” Chakotay replied as they walked away, leaving him and Kathryn alone in the bedroom. He was grateful for their trust – for their kindness towards them in spite of the paltry explanations that they had given. He’d never been shown such unconditional kindness before and somehow, even in spite of all the questions he had, that gave him some semblance of hope and comfort. "And thank you."  


	7. Chapter 7

“You’re something else, you know that?” The older man looked down affectionately at his wife as he nuzzled her short hair.

“I know, Gregg, but I couldn’t just pass them by! It was freezing out there. The snow is up practically to my _thigh_ -” She shook her head as she carried on emphatically, keeping her gaze on the dying embers as she raised her cold feet under her.

“We don’t know anything about them-“

“Other than they’re scared, and alone…” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry; I know it wasn’t the smartest thing, to take them in… but…”

“I know why you did it; you never could turn down a stray. Why do you think we built a heated barn for all of your cats?”

She smiled at her own quirky habitude. “What do you make of them?”

He laughed at her obvious question. “The cats?”

She laughed, “No! Chakotay and Kathryn, _silly_!”

“What do I make of them?” He shrugged. “I don’t know what to make of them. Those uniforms – I’m no expert on the government, you know I try to stay as far away from politics as humanly possible bar twice a year when we have to vote… but they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Do you think they’re in trouble?”

“I think _they’re_ trouble…”

She turned her body fully, “Well what would you have me do? Turn them away? Send them off into the cold, Gregg? We can’t do that!”

“No,” He shook his head at their options. “We can’t.”

He thought on it a while, his encounter with the two relative strangers playing back through his head. “They’re no bumpkins, that’s for sure. Kathryn seems smart, capable – commanding. And Chakotay seems thoughtful, supportive. I can’t believe they aren’t married, or at least _involved_!”

“Mmm,” Jan mused, remembering his protectiveness, possessiveness over her sleeping form. “He’s very protective of her…”

“What are we going to do with them?” His question cut right to the heart of their conversation.

“It’s not a secret that we need help here – we can’t keep up with all the applications and the paperwork even working part time. Without the summer volunteers, we need help with small things that you can’t do with your knee that maybe Chakotay can help with…”

“Mmm, but will they stay? Why don't they anywhere to go? Are they fugitives?”

Jan didn’t have a good answer; she wasn't expected to. “I don’t know. For all we know they _could be_ on the run… maybe I’ve seen too many of those foolish movies, but they don’t seem dangerous – just lost and scared for whatever reason. The least we can do is give them a place to stay…” She looked at him straight on, “Gregg, we’ve been shown a lot of kindness in our life. Remember when we were young – during medical school – we had nothing and Allen and Alice Foster showed us kindness by letting us live rent-free in their home?”

Gregg smiled, thinking of those days; they’d been young, broke, all their money going towards school and their loans to paying off Jan’s deceased parents’ medical bills. What little money they had left over was used for food and what meagre rent they had to offer the Fosters. “I remember,” He winked; “so you’re saying it’s time to pay it forward?”

She nodded, turning her eyes back to the glowing embers. “Yes.”


	8. Chapter 8

As the door clicked shut, he steeled himself and turned back towards her.  What he expected was anger - questions, belligerence.  But when he turned, he found her with his back to him, silently standing by the window.

“Please, Chakotay,” She held up her hand. “Please tell me we weren’t caught in a space-time anomaly…”

He shook his head. “I can't answer that.  But, I think we were. I don’t recognise anything...” He sat on the bed, facing her as she turned around to look at him.

“What happened?" She implored. "Tell me everything - from the beginning.”

He sighed, bowing his head as he thought back to what was just three hours ago. “The last thing I remember was the anomaly and then I woke up in the shuttle.  It was obvious that it had crashed; the bulkheads were damaged," He listed on one hand.  "The viewscreen had gone out and all systems were offline.  Then, I scanned you.  You had suffered minor injuries and there was mild cerebral swelling likely from hitting your head on the console…”

She nodded, encouraging him to go on she touched the painful fresh bruise on her forehead. “I noticed that it was getting cold, and that environmental controls were off. We were still breathing so I knew the outside environment was compatible with life. So I wrapped you in a jacket and went to survey outside the shuttle.”

He smiled when he remembered the first time he’d seen the snow.

“ _What_?” She whispered at his far off look.

“That’s when I saw it,” He smiled. “The snow.”

She turned around to look outside the window and smiled weakly when she registered their millieu. “I hadn’t really noticed before now. I’ve been so preoccupied...” She wiped her eyes tiredly. “Where are we?”

He didn’t know an easy way to tell her – to drop the _ultimate_ bombshell. So he just said it: “ _Indiana_.”

She turned to him fully, stepping away from the cool pane of glass. He predicted her reaction and reality wasn’t far off. Her eyes widened, her neck reddened and he could nearly feel her speeding heart, the bounding pulse, the subtle perspiration that wetted her palms, and that pitted feeling in the stomach. “ _What_?” Was all her hoarse voice could produce.

“Indiana,"He said it more for himself than for her benefit. "We’re in Indiana.” 

“What year is it?”

He shook his head, wondering the same question. “I don’t know.”

She looked around the room almost frantically, her eyes coming to rest on a luminescent clock near the bed. Walking over to it, she picked it up, scrutinising the bright readout. “ _Chakotay_ ,” She murmered as he came up rest behind her.

“What?” He asked rhetorically.

“December eighteenth, twenty thirteen…” The date rolled over and over in her mind as her head fell into her hands and she crumpled onto the soft bed.

He sat beside her, close enough, but not too. The date resonated as he kept his eyes on the clock; twenty thirteen. He’d been a history minor at the Academy where he had memorised all the important history dates as it pertained to the Federation and then some. Within nanoseconds it dawned on him.

“Twenty fifteen,” He said, a feeling of dread settling even more palpably.

“Yes,” She nodded forlornly. She knew it too; it was hard not too – that was when everything changed. The unrest had started in two thousand and fourteen between the Americans, the Russians, and China. It had been a mimicry of the Cold War; tensions rose, nuclear arms were pointed and targets engaged. On November sixteenth, twenty fifteen, the pin dropped and the world went up in flames.

 “Do you think,"He begged the one question they so desperately wanted an answer to. "Voyager will come back for us? Do you even think they can find us?”

Her heart sank at the mention of her ship.  “ _Voyager_ ,” She whimpered regretfully before she stood up and began pacing. “What was I _thinking,_ Chakotay? _Both of us_ leaving the ship?"  Tears built behind her eyes at their situation.  “They may never find us! How could they? We don’t have that kind of technology!”

“They found us in nineteen ninety six; why should this be any different?” But he knew better; three years ago had been a completely different circumstance.

“You know _why_ , Chakotay!” She snapped, glaring at him before she visibly deflated. “I’m sorry,” She crumpled next to him at her wits end. “I’m sorry.” Tears ate at her, ambling aimlessly down her cheek as she clenched her fists in frustration and her whole body shook with grief and frustration.  

Tentatively, his hand went out to her, but he pulled back before he could touch her.  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the movement - his hesitancy to touch her.  And in that moment, when she most wanted his touch - that comfort - he'd removed it, adding to her turmoiled remorse.   “We should get some rest,” He sighed. “Why don’t you use the bathroom and get changed. I’ll go after you.”

She nodded glumly, not meeting his gaze; there was nothing else left to do other than go round and round in circles, abhoring herself and questioning her every decision. So she picked up the pile of clothing Jan had left for her and disappeared into bathroom.

Chakotay sat quietly and watched her vanish into the bathroom before he turned and regarded the lone bed.  The thought of sleeping beside her...  He used to think of them like this; one day sharing a bed - sharing their lives.  Dreams of her, some of them so palpably real, would soothe him sometimes - would give him something to hope for.  But now, he glanced back towards the bathroom door... Now the thought of sharing a bed with her put him at unease. 

Finding them in the spot Jan had stipulated, he took out an extra blanket and laid it on the floor and took a pillow from the many on the bed. It was better this way, he thought, to give her space - room to breathe without him until they could set time aside to fix whatever it was that was between them...  

She looked around at the room.  It was simple, she thought - but not unlike what she had on Voyager.  Perhaps in some ways it was nicer, even, with the smooth porcelain bathtub and marble countertops, lovely lighting, and accent motifs.  Kathryn always had these absurd notions of the past – especially of this time. On the holodeck she’d always chosen programmes that portrayed the more romantic time periods: dabbling in the Maestro’s studio, or visiting Victorian England... But this time period – the twenty first century? She’d never had an interest. 

But it was hard to enjoy anything or take any anthropological interest in her surroundings when she was so distraught. How could this have happened? She felt eminently foolish for being so reckless – for leaving the ship against Tuvok’s wishes. She steeled herself against what he would say when she saw him again. I _f_ she saw him again, she amended.

Stepping out of her trousers, she looked at the sweatpants their host had given her and heard movement on the other side of the door. Just then, she could picture Chakotay blaming himself - valiantly taking the onus like she knew he always did. And he had not reason to; he had been wonderful - bringing her to safety, taking care of her. And in her inured way, she treated him poorly like she had for the past few months - years now really. Why he put up with her - why he was nice and courteous towards her - she had little idea. No, she resolved to herself, squaring her shoulders as she examined the woman in the mirror – she would talk with him; she would tell him this wasn’t his fault - it was hers, and there was nothing he could have done.

When he door opened, his eyes snapped up to meet hers and he smiled weakly; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in anything other than her Starfleet uniform. She usually did, but now even more so in a baggy pair of patterned red bottoms and a T-shirt, she took his breath away.

 “Chakotay?” Her voice broke through his musings. “The bathroom’s yours.”

He nodded, picking up the sweatpants and T-shirt and disappearing without meeting her gaze. It felt good to get out of his uniform.  Still damp, it was more uncomfortable than usual.  Gregg was a smaller man than he was, and the pants were a little tight, but still comfortable nevertheless. The shirt the same, but they felt warm and dry.  

She scanned the bed and smiled weakly when she looked at his arrangement. It was so like Chakotay to be concerned about something like that. But her heart ached when she saw what he had laid out on the floor. 

The door opened and he looked to her. She smiled in spite of herself and walked towards him. “Chakotay, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. Please,” She moved a little closer. “ _Please don’t_."

His shoulders slumped and he shook his head in disagreement while he remade his pile. “It’s all right, Kathryn," He told her gently. "I got us into this – you take the bed.”

“No,” She walked past him bending to re-retrieve the pillow and the extra blanket and re-deposit them on the bed. “It’s _not your fault_ and I’m sorry if I made it seem that way.” She moved to him again, seeing his look of uncertainty. “ _It’s not your fault._ ” 

He nodded, not in the mood to argue. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers then,” His shoulder brushed hers as he sat on the bed.

She nodded in acquiescence.  "Fine.”

“How do you turn the lights out?” She asked, completely clueless.

He smiled. “I remember similar ones from when I was growing up.” He looked under the lampshade, seeing what he anticipated. “There’s a small black mechanism that you turn.” She followed his instructions, locating the black knob.

“Sweet Dreams, Kathryn.”

“Goodnight, Chakotay.”  


	9. Chapter 9

He woke the next morning, the smell of coffee lingering in the air. He smiled, momentarily unaware of his surroundings, as he thought of Kathryn – coffee was her smell. He couldn’t smell it without picturing her.

Sleep momentarily beckoned him to return. It had been a while since he’d slept on anything other than the cold standard Starfleet issue mattress in his quarters. This mattress, though, was warm, yielding, and the pillow under his cheek was lovely and soft.  But suddenly, in a wave it all came back to him; the crash, Indiana, twenty thirteen...  And he jolted at the memory, immediately roused from somnolence.  

He turned back to look for Kathryn, but she was gone – her side of the bed cold and rumpled. Goaded to rising, the icy wooden floor met his warm feet, chilling him again, as he moved closer to the closed door when he heard it: laughter. Kathryn’s laughter.

Gingerly, he ambled into the small corridor and looked towards the kitchen where he saw her sitting at the table, a hot mug cradled in her hands as she spoke animatedly with Jan and Gregg.  Gregg’s smiled stayed in place as he caught his eye. “Chakotay, good morning!” He greeted. “Pull up a chair - we were just talking with Kathryn here about her search for the perfect cuppa.”

“Cuppa?” Chakotay sauntered over to where they were sitting, amused by the use of a term he’d never heard before.

“Cuppa coffee,” Kathryn turned to him, smiling as she regarded him full on.

“Mmm,” Chakotay mused as he sat at the table with them, all in their pajamas as the morning light seeped into the tall windows. He couldn’t help but gaze and take in their surroundings. His observations the other night weren’t far off; they were on a large piece of property settled on a lake. The house was set on somewhat of an incline, set apart from the other two dozen or so wooden buildings in the makeshift valley.  There was a barn not too far from the house proper and everything – _everything_ – was covered in a thick white blanket of snow. And the more he looked, he noticed the white just kept coming down from the heavens, adding to the delicately pristine blanket that already lay.

“Well,” he chuckled, turning back to the animated group. “If there’s one thing that Kathryn can talk about, it’s coffee.”

“Finest organic substance ever devised,” She raised her cup to her face, inhaling the steaming odour.

“Mmhmm,” Gregg mimicked her gesture. “You’ll have no arguments from me or Jan here; we’ve practically lived on the stuff!”

Jan nodded her head, grinning at her husband. “It got us through many a late night at the hospital, and here at the camp with the kids…”

Chakotay turned back to regard the outside and the many buildings surrounding the house.“Camp?” 

“We own a camp here that we run during the summer.” Gregg volunteered. “We’ve been doing it for years now.”

“What kind of camp?” Chakotay’s interest piqued.

“It’s called Camp Adventure. Every summer we get around five hundred or more kids who come just to get away from their normal routine and enjoy the outdoors with other kids like them, who are going through the same things they are.”

“What do you mean," Kathryn asked, setting her coffee cub down on the worn wooden table. "‘Kids like them’?” 

“All our kids are sick," Gregg explained.  "Some are getting treatment, others are terminal or in remission. In the summer months, they can come here with their families to get away from the hospital for a little bit – and the kids love it; look forward to it!”

Jan smiled, her mind drifting to summers filled with happy children. “We’ve been doing it for the last seventeen years. Every year we get thousands of applications from different families who want their kids to be able to have a normal camp experience like all their friends even though they're sick.”

Kathryn remembered that during this time they hadn’t yet found the cure for cancer and other terminal illnesses. Those were inventions and breakthroughs that had come after the war when doctors were hard pressed to find a cure for the side effects of the radiation. “Don’t look so shocked, dear,” Jan smiled. “You must’ve heard of camps like ours before; we’re hardly original! But,” she sighed. “We’re one of the most popular in this part of the country. We provide a safe environment for these kids for a week, and they have a blast!”

“Jan trained as an oncologist.  I'm an emergency doc by trade, and we take on final year medical students for summer volunteers, so the kids are well cared for. It’s a big commitment, but it’s been a joy to see these kids come alive during that week. And it’s a treat for the parents as well," Gregg beamed. "Most of them have gotten so used to seeing their babies cooped up in dreary hospital rooms with wires and tubes coming out of them – to see them act like normal kids for a week – it’s…” He stumbled to find the right word. “It’s something that you can’t put a value on.”

Chakotay smiled as he let the moment settle. “Why did you start the camp?”

“It was Jan’s idea,” Gregg looked at his wife again, a serene smile planting itself on his lips. “You tell the story, honey.”

“Well,” she cradled her steaming mug in her hand. “Being an oncologist is hardly a happy field. I’ve been in it for a good thirty six years. It was a specialty that I really believed in when I got started; I thought I’d be making a huge difference in people’s lives. But I was a little self deluded…” She paused as she gesticulated animatedly. “More than that, I was a little idealistic. About ten years into practice, I was getting fed up, wasn’t I honey?”

Gregg nodded. “And that’s when we started planning Camp Adventure.”

“I was so tired of delivering bad news- essentially _ending_ people’s lives with a diagnosis. So, I came up with a way to bring a little joy, a little good news and fun even if they weren’t going to make it in the long run. Because seeing them like that – even if it’s just for a short time… Well it makes all the difference in my line of work.”

“That’s wonderful, Jan.” Kathryn's voice was broken and gravelly. “How do you afford it all?”

“Different foundations, donations mostly. We get enough to pay for the upkeep of the place. But it’s a lot of work, and we keep getting older! The camp keeps growing in popularity and Gregg and I can hardly keep up…” She faltered, wondering how to phrase her next sentence as she glanced at her husband. “And, that’s what we wanted to talk to you two about...”


	10. Chapter 10

She looked over to her husband, unsure of how to continue. “We need help here at the camp in the winter months-“

“We were talking last night,” Gregg resumed. “And since you two have nowhere to go, well we thought that maybe you could help us out with the camp – with the paperwork, the applications...“

Kathryn thought on it, her mug still cradled warmly in her palms. Emotions aside, they had to be practical; Voyager may never find them – they might be stuck here in twenty thirteen Indiana for the rest of their lives. For a moment she thought of the temporal prime directive: a stringent policy non-interference in other times and cultures. This alone moved her to object and automatically she raised her hand. “Jan, Gregg, we can’t impose like that on you – on your kindness like that…”

“ _Kathryn_ ,” Jan soothed. “We don’t know who you are, or where you’ve come from or why you can’t get back there, but we want to help you somehow.”

Realistically, she was right: they were stranded – without anything, without anyone. Jan and Gregg were offering them shelter and a job and she had to take it. If they ever got back to Voyager, and the Alpha Quadrant after this was over, surely no one would quibble with them over doing their best to survive and make the best in the given circumstances.

She looked up from her coffee cup to Chakotay. His features were impassive, blank. But she knew he was thinking the same thing; this was their best shot and Jan and Gregg had already shown them so much kindness.

"Well," She cleared her throat to respond with the only words that seemed adequate. “All right."

Jan smiled warmly, “Well that’s settled then! We can talk more about it after breakfast. Kathryn, would you mind helping me in the kitchen?”

Chakotay smiled at her lopsidedly from across the table as he met her gaze – it was no secret that Kathryn was useless in the kitchen. She couldn't even cook with a replicator, which wasn’t even cooking – just the pressing of a few buttons. “Of course. But I don’t know how much help I’ll be...”

“Oh?”

Jan sensed an inside joke between the two and looked to Chakotay for elucidation. She almost gasped, though, when she looked over at him; in the darkness and upheaval of the night before, she truly hadn't appreciated  what a handsome man he was. Yes, she thought – the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.  And that odd tattoo... But that wasn’t what distracted her - not the marking, nor the deep dimples, or his strong cheekbones. No, it was the way he looked at the woman across from him.

Jan loved her husband; she had for more than forty years at this point. And he loved her; they’d had a wonderful life together.  But Gregg never looked at her like that. It was deep, searing, and attentive. And the connection between these two people was palpable, something of a living entity.

“Chakotay,” Gregg broke her musings. “I could use some help outside with the snow; we got another four inches overnight and I need to clear out the driveway.”

“Sure,” Chakotay nodded. “Anything I can do to help.”

“Great.”

The men walked together to the foyer as Kathryn and Jan moved around the kitchen. “ _I don’t know to cook, Jan_ ,” he heard Kathryn’s rich laugh. “ _I can burn water_!”

“What size shoe are you, Chakotay?” Greg turned his back, rummaging in the coat closet. “I think we had a volunteer one summer – left a pair of boots. He was about your height.”

"Umm..." Chakotay looked down, foolishly unsure of his size. He had depended on replicators programmed with his exact specifications for so long that he’d lost track of exact measurements.

“Here,” he held up a pair of work boots. “These here look to be about a twelve. Should fit.”

He slid them on; a little roomy, but otherwise comfortable – more so than his usual leather boots. “Thanks,” He said, adjusting to the novelty as Gregg handed him his coat.

“I’ve got a snow blower that I use for the longer driveway. But it’s too big to do the lot in front of the house where we park the cars.” Chakotay donned a borrowed hat and a scarf before the bitter cold sting of the morning air hit, almost burning his lungs with the intensity.

They descended the icy steps and walked towards the garage. “Are you alright to shovel the driveway?”

He shook his head, unsure of what he was asking. “Shovel?” He’d never heard the term before, wasn’t sure of what it looked like.

Gregg’s face lit up in a smile, “You really aren’t from around here are you?” _Strange man,_ he mused. Very _strange_.

He returned the grin sheepishly with a pull on his earlobe; “No, sir.”

“Well this here’s a shovel,” Gregg picked up the foreign object. “And what you do is just move the snow out of the driveway – around the cars, off to the side like this,” he demonstrated a few times. “Alright?”

“Looks simple enough,” Chakotay smiled reaching for the device.

Gregg chuckled again, “You say that now; I’ll come and check on you after I’m done with the drive way!”

* * *

 “So Kathryn,"Jan looked up from the eggs she was whisking as Kathryn sipped her coffee. "Where are you from?” 

“Indiana,” her answer was automatic, before she had a chance to think through the repercussions.

“Oh you’re from around here?”

Kathryn didn’t know where they were. “Here?”

“Arcadia.”

Arcadia. Aunt Martha lived in Arcadia…  three hundred years in the future, mind you. “No, Bloomington – just outside the city.”

“Lovely,” Jan replied as she resumed her vigorous whisking. “Do you get home often?”

She looked down, thinking of the last time she’d been home. The last time she’d seen her mother and Phoebe was when she’d said goodbye. She’d been so young back then – so bright-eyed, almost naive. Looking back on that Kathryn, she realized that she didn’t recognize herself. That sudden realization made her heart sink down to the pit of her stomach. “No,” whispered shaking her head. “I haven’t been back home in a while now.”

Jan looked up to see the sadness on her face. “Are you alright, Kathryn?”

“Fine, Jan," She covered with her Captain's smile. "Just fine.”

Jan knew it wasn’t, but decided not to pursue it. “Would you mind whisking for me dear? My "arthritis" is kicking up and I’d better give it a rest before I overdo it and end up in pain for the rest of the afternoon!”

The repetitive movement of the whisk was soothing – the ache in her wrist from the vigorous movement somewhat of a welcome distraction. She yearned to talk to Chakotay – to discuss everything that was happening with them. She thought of Voyager, of the anxiety the crew would be feeling. She knew they’d be looking for them, but eventually, after a time, they’d give up and resume course for the Alpha Quadrant. Tuvok would get them home, she was sure of it. But she couldn’t ignore the pit in her stomach – the longing that she felt for her beloved ship.

* * *

 He’d underestimated the simplicity of the work; Gregg had made it look so easy. He was sweating now, in spite of the chilly air, and he knew the clothing underneath the coat would be damp with perspiration. But it was soothing and gratifying. The strain in his muscles was a good distraction for the anger, despair, and uselessness that he felt. He thought of the ship and the crew – he could picture in his mind’s eye all the confusion that would be felt – the sense of loss.

Kathryn was right – Voyager didn’t have the technology to find them. How they even got here was still a mystery. The crew would search for a few days. Seven would work tirelessly in astrometrics with B’Elanna running scan after scan. But eventually they would be given up for lost. There would be a memorial service, maybe tears would be shed, but they’d all eventually get on with the mission – on with their lives...

“Wow! Chakotay, this is _amazing_!” Gregg walked towards him over the newly shovelled driveway. “I can’t tell you how grateful Jan and I’ll be in the morning for this!” He surveyed the work that he’d done in clearing the driveway over the last hour. It was a simple task – nothing that required more than effort, but it had been gratifying to see the work of his hands produce something tangible.

“Are you hungry?” Gregg smiled, his breath billowing out in front of him as he spoke.

“Yes,” He put his hand on his stomach. “I could always eat.”

Gregg laughed heartily. “Good man.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Well, Kathryn," Jan proudly surveilled the pie she'd just taken out of the oven. "I’m impressed – you cooked us a quiche! And you said you _couldn’t cook_!”

“You cooked a quiche?” Chakotay stepped into the kitchen and it took every muscle in Kathryn’s body to stay upright.

Chakotay was wet, dripping with sweat, his shirt damp and plastered to his body.  Kathryn had only ever seen glimpses of him before – small snap shots every now and then on New Earth.  They’d both gained weight in the last year. Call it resignation, but maybe they’d finally gotten used to Neelix’s leola root creations, or their taste buds had dulled. His body now was different, yes – more yielding, but nevertheless a _man’s body_. Still, she could see the lines of his muscles where the T-shirt clung to him and  more than that, she could smell him: the heady aroma of his sweat and how it amplified his natural spicy odour.  It was erotic, sensual.

“Well,” Kathryn fumbled, blushing and averting her gaze in an effort not to gawk. "I only mixed the eggs and the cut the vegetables. _Jan_ handled the oven.”

“Oh,” He laughed, dimples on full display. “So you didn’t have a chance to char it?”

Jan grinned at the two of them, “Stop it, you two. Kathryn you did a wonderful job, we’ll make a chef out of you yet! A you,” she pointed at Chakotay. “Shower; you’re ripe from all that work!”

"Yes, Ma'am," He bowed his head and ducked out of the kitchen, feeling Kathryn's gaze on him as he left.  

* * *

 

“Kathryn,” Chakotay looked across the table at her, smiling as he tucked into his quiche. “You’ve outdone yourself. I take back everything I’ve ever thought about your cooking.”

She laughed, “I knew you always lied about my dinners!”

He shook his head, bashfully averting his eyes from her as he took another bite of his breakfast.

“So, you two,” Gregg grinned at them from across the table. “I know this is a little soon, but we do need some help. I was on the computer this morning; we’ve got over _two thousand_ applications to review in the next couple of months before more start rolling in. Some of them are from families, foundations, and hospitals and the rest from medical students and nursing students who want to volunteer.”

Jan picked up where he left off. “We don’t know how long you’ll be staying with us – but we’re sure you don’t want to have to stay cramped in the house with us stodgy old folks!”

Kathryn moved to object – to tell them that she didn’t mind where they were. But Jan’s next proposal quieted her. “If it’s alright with you, we were going to give you the head counselor’s cabin. During the summer, we usually have another physician who stays part time. It’s small – one bedroom, a small kitchen and sitting area. But, it’s the best we can do to give you two some space.” She fumbled a bit more. “I know you’re not married-“

“It’s fine,” Kathryn looked to Chakotay again, for his approval; he simply nodded in acquiescence and continued eating. “Thank you, Jan. We don’t mind sharing.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

“Do you think the snow could be any deeper?” Jan laughed rhetorically and looked back at her husband as they trudged through the fluffy white snow on their way down the valley into the camp. Gregg shared her amusement, grabbing her waist from behind and they shared what looked to be a private conversation interspersed with joy and gentle banter.

“So,” Chakotay lagged behind them, staying close to her. “How does it feel to be back in Indiana?”

She looked down at the snow at her feet. At this height it came all the way up to her knees. It was an odd sensation, she thought, to be back here – to be walking on Indiana soil again.  “I don’t know,” Kathryn answered honestly. “It’s a bit of a shock. All of it.  I keep thinking..." She smiled sheepishly at him.  "That this is just some elaborate joke and pretty soon it's all going to disappear and we're going to be standing in a hologrid.”

“I know the feeling, but,” He looked to the couple in front of him. “All things considered, I think we got lucky…”

“I know,” She whispered.

“It’s almost too good to be true. And to think…” She stopped – the thought of what was coming was foreboding; in just under two years,  all of this would be gone. 

He nodded solemnly, sharing her thoughts. “I know.”

“This is it!” Jan called behind her as she pointed to a small building.  It was small, raised on an above-ground foundation. The two stragglers caught up as she ascended the small staircase as she fiddled with the lock before the door cracked open. “Like I said," Jan kicked her boots as she walked in.  "It’s not much. But there’s heat, and a bed, tables, and a small kitchen.”

The cabin was just as small inside as it looked from the outside. Essentially, Chakotay gathered, it was one large room with the bedroom and a small bathroom somewhat separated. 

“We’ve packed you some food stuffs for the kitchen,” Jan held up two bags that she deposited on the scant countertop. “And another one full of some clothes. When the storm is over we’ll go into town and get you two some proper things to wear.  We can't have you wearing Gregg's too-tight sweatpants forever!“  Jan chuckled, finding herself an endless source of amusement while she double checked that they had brought everything.  

“Jan,” Kathryn' hand met her arm in gratitude. “Thank you, this is already too much.”

“ _Nonsense_ ,” The older woman smiled. “Now, why don’t you two get settled and we’ll see you for dinner in a few hours.  Sound good?”

“You two be good,” Gregg joked as he showed Chakotay the panel on the far wall. “There’s the controls for the heat on the wall over here. The temperature is pre-set, but you can turn it up or down if you like. All the essentials should be here, but holler if here’s anything else you need!”

“Thank you,” Chakotay breathed. “We, don’t…”

“It’s alright, Chakotay," Gregg said it as he would to a small child - slowly so that he might finally understand.  "We grateful for the help. You two take care and we’ll see you a little later for dinner.” And with the close of the thick creaky wooden door, the cabin descended into silence.


	13. Chapter 13

The room was still cold, making Kathryn shiver as she pulled the coat closer to her.  It was a shield, she mused - more than something to keep away the frigid air as they stood in the room alone together.  In the silence, she found herself girlishly reluctant to face him, even though only an hour ago she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him.  

The snow fall had stopped somewhat and now all that lingered were large wafers of glistening white the fell against the dreary grey sky.  She sighed audibly as she fitted herself into the chair by the window and stared out at the scene in front of them, trying in vain to sort her racing thoughts.  

“What are you thinking, Kathryn?” Not unlike herself, Chakotay had wanted to be alone with her since this morning. He yearned to know what she was feeling – to hear her say the words rather than him just imagining them. 

She turned sheepishly to face him, “About everything. None of this feels real.”

“No,” He rubbed his face and let out a yawn. “It feels like we’re in a dream.”

“Do you think they’ve given up yet?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not yet.  We’ve barely been gone twenty four hours.”

Had it really only been that long? It felt like an age had passed since he’d crawled out of the shuttle with her in his arms. “What?” She asked, noticing the change in his features at the passing thought.  

“Nothing,” He faked a grin. 

He remembered back a couple years ago when they’d been in a similar shuttle crash; when Kathryn had the encounter with the alien who she said had impersonated her father. That night, they’d taken a sail on the holodeck to celebrate – what was it? Oh yes, to celebrate Kathryn’s cheating death. He almost laughed – if they celebrated every event like that, Neelix would be in a suspended state of jubilee.  

But he’d been terrified back then and that terror rose every time she was in danger. Watching her leave the bridge each time, leaving the ship in his hands, he wondered if that mission would be her last – the last time he saw her alive.

Kathryn measured the emotion on his face as she watched him in the silence of the cabin. The air was growing warmer, she smiled - distracted -  and removed her coat. “No, you’re probably right. I can see B’Elanna and Seven running every scan known to man while they try not to kill each other in astrometrics!” She tried to laugh the sentence, but failed miserably.  

“It’s alright, Kathryn,” He looked at her warmly as he removed his own jacket. “You don’t have to pretend.”

Her face fell, the forced smile disappearing as she admitted what was truly in her heart. “We don’t belong here.”

“I know,” He laughed at their absurdity. “Gregg looked at me like I was half crazy when I didn’t know what a shovel was!”

“A shovel?” A crooked smile cocked up on one side of her face. “What _is_ a shovel?”

 “I’ll show you later," He chuckled.  "I have a feeling it’s a device we’re going to become well acquainted with.  Is this what it was like growing up in Indiana?”

She shook her head and threw a glance over her shoulder out the window. “I remember winter being long and snowy – but never like this. The weather grid controlled most of it so we never got too much.”

“I’d never seen snow before," He remembered his first flash of white.   "Until I walked out of the shuttle yesterday.”

“That’s right,” She half grinned. “So, what do you think?”

He shook his head, dimples coming out to play as he looked straight at her. “Cold.” He huffed. “But it’s beautiful, like nothing I’ve ever seen. Of course, I knew what it would be like – I remember you showing me holophotos of your home. But the experience,” He paused.  "Was... special."  

"It's always like that," She told him, remembering her own childhood fascination with the beginning of winter.  "Even if you see it every year, the first time it snows is always magical."  

"Yes," He nodded in agreement.  "Well."  

"Well," Her eyes scanned their small living quarters.  "What do you think?"  

"I think..." Chakotay's eyes took on an exploratory glint.  "That we should have a look around at our new home."  


	14. Chapter 14

“So how are you two finding the cabin?” Jan scooped a serving of lasagna onto her own plate before she sat down to eat.

“It’s wonderful, Jan,” Kathryn smiled. “Thank you.  And dinner looks delicious.”

“Well taste it first," She teased.  "But thank you.  You know, when Gregg and I first got married, I didn’t know how to use _a toaster!_ ” She laughed as she caught her husband’s eye. “But we learned together, and I had a good amount of help from the people that we were living with at the time.”

“Chakotay,” Gregg cleared his throat with a sip of water. "I’ve been meaning to ask you about that tattoo; it’s quite an unusual place for one.”

“Yes,” Jan added. “Does it mean something?”

“Yes,” He traced the marking on his forehead. “I took it to honour my father.”

“What happened to your father?” Gregg asked solemnly, hearing the sadness in Chakotay’s voice.

“He, uh… He died a while ago,” He wanted to change the subject.

“What about your parents, Kathryn?” Jan asked quietly. “Do they still live in Indiana?”

“My father died when I was a girl. My mother,” Kathryn looked down, remembering Gretchen's kind features. “My mother is dead as well.”

“Well do you have any siblings?”

“No,” She lied, hiding her emotion – expertly keeping her features neutral. “It's just me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jan sighed. “For the both of you.  We never had children,"  She glanced at Gregg. “We always wanted to, but something always came in the way. We didn’t get out of school until our late twenties and then we spent most of our thirties advancing our careers. And then before we knew it we were in our fifties.  So, it's always been just the two of us.  So,” She smiled sweetly at the two of them.  "It's good you have each other."  

The older man sensed her sadness and took her hand. “You know what honey?” He smiled. “I don't mind because we have thousands of kids, as far as I’m concerned. Every summer.”

"I know," Her hand covered his and she nodded contentedly. “And I wouldn’t trade that for a thing.”

* * *

 “Are you two all set for the evening?" Jan walked them to the door, hugging her sweater around her against the cold. "Do you need anything else?”

He didn’t look at Kathryn when he went to respond. “Could we have a few more blankets for the bed, please?”

Jan nodded. “Of course, let me get them for you. I know that cabin gets cold!” She called from down the hall before appearing again with bundles in her arms.  "Here you go."

“Thank you, Jan,” Was become Kathryn’s mantra. “Goodnight.”

“Stop saying that," The older woman winked.  "Goodnight, you two.” 

* * *

 

He kept their arrangement from the night before; him on top of the covers and her under while he tried to stay as far away from her as he could. If he was honest, he was overcompensating just a bit – hugging the border of the bed - nearly falling off of it.

Jan was right; the room was cold - icy would have been a better descriptor - as the widows in the bedroom were thin and let in a howlingly cold draft. Kathryn hugged the blankets around herself and shivered, unable to fall asleep. Even in the relative silence of their room, her mind couldn’t quiet.  Instead, it was obsessed with thoughts of her ship, her crew. “They can’t find us,” She said rhetorically into the darkness.

“You don’t know that,” He tried to comfort her, but somehow he knew his words were meaningless.

She turned on her other side, holding the comforter around her to face his back. “Chakotay?”

“Mmm?"  

“ _Chakotay,_ ” Her voice was softer this time.

“Yes, Kathryn?”

“Will you look at me?”

The bed shifted as he turned himself around to face her and saw the scared, vulnerable features highlighted by the slivered light of the moon. He rarely saw her like this; she was the captain and her mask was always firmly rooted into place and in the moment, his heart started to soften.  

She wanted to reach out and touch him, feel _him_ real beneath her finger tips even though everything else in her universe had disintegrated.  She used to touch him, she remembered; she used to do it all the time.  It had been her own dallying form of intimacy that she would allow them.  But in the past couple of years, something had gone wrong and now it was like she had feared.  “You don’t even want to look at me anymore, Chakotay," She whispered.  "What’s happened to us?”


	15. Chapter 15

A silence passed between them at her question before he let out a long sigh.  This was it, he thought; the conversation they'd been careening towards since... since he couldn't remember when.  But even in spite of its inevitability - how long he'd wanted to say what was in his heart, he had lost the fight and a sense of apathy had set in.  “It’s nothing, Kathryn," He went to turn over again before her hand stopped him.

" _Kathryn, l_ et’s just go to sleep,” He said, meeting her eyes for a guarded moment.  "I told you; it's nothing."   

“It’s not _nothing,"_ She propped herself up in the bed and drew the covers closer to her body.  "You’re my best friend and now you don’t even want to _look_ at me or to talk to me. _Why_?”

“I think you know why.” He said, sitting up to meet her.  

“Remind me.”

He didn’t want to get into this, not when they were both so raw. They’d only been lost for thirty hours at this point. If by some miracle the ship did find them and rescued them, and he had barred his soul, only to have her turn away and brush him off for the hundredth time – it wasn’t worth it.  So he turned her down again. “It’s late, Kathryn,” He spoke softly.  "Let's go to bed."   

"Okay," She nodded, tears threatening for form behind her eyes. “Goodnight, Chakotay.”

And with that they both turned again, facing opposite walls as silent tears trod down both their cheek before a restless sleep swooped down to claim them.

* * *

 

Before the sun came up a loud knock sounded at the door. “ _Kathryn! Chakotay?_ ” Jan’s cheery voice called out. “ _Are you up?_ ”

The room was frigid as they hopped out of bed to answer her.  “Jan!” Kathryn yawned as she pulled open the door. “Good morning.”

“I’m sorry to wake you two, but Gregg and I are off to work today. I brought the computer and all the applications that we’ve received.” Standing on the snowy stoop, her shoulder was weighed down by two heavy canvass bags. “I don’t want to look like a _taskmaster!_  But Gregg and I were wondering if you wouldn’t mind starting to read through and sort the applications today?”

Kathryn opened the small door to let the older woman in out of the cold. “Of course, no problem. What do you want us to do?”

“Well,” She crossed the small room and laid the bags and the computer on the table. “I know it sounds a bit like _Sophie’s Choice_ , but we need them sorted into ‘treatment, remission, or terminal’. We run separate camps for each group. Usually those details will be in the doctor’s notes. Don’t be surprised if you need a box of Kleenexes – Gregg and I go through hundreds of them this time of year!  I wouldn’t be surprised it that takes you most of the day. We’ll be home by three thirty, hopefully, and we’ll see how far you got, okay?”

Kathryn nodded her head, still unsure of what she was doing but confident that she could figure out such an easy task. “Okay.”

Jan moved to leave but turned back as she got one foot out the door, “And Kathryn, I thought we might go shopping this afternoon for a few essentials. Is that all right with you?”

Kathryn nodded dumbly. “That’s fine, Jan. Thank you.”

“Okay, take care, you two. I'll see you this afternoon!”


	16. Chapter 16

“Do you think they have any coffee?” She padded around the small galley, one of Jan’s old sweaters held tight around her small body as Chakotay turned up the heat.

He pointed to a black coffee maker sitting on the counter next to the small stove. “I think that’s what _that_ device is for.” 

“This?” She pointed skeptically. “How does it work?”

“Well first,” He brushed against her in the cramped space. “First we have to find the coffee.” There weren’t that many cabinets, so the search was brief. “Here we are – coffee grounds.”

“ _Those_ I’ve heard of,” She chuckled. “Now what?”

“Well now,” He was still standing close and the heat rolled off of his body in waves. She examined in his task - when he wasn't looking.  Like a little boy, his face was the absolute definition of concentration as he fiddled with the foreign buttons. And like that little boy, a small piece of his usually coiffed hair fell over into his eyes and not for the first time did she want to touch it, run her fingers through it and luxuriate in its raven softness.  Unconsciously, she licked her lips and curled her fingers into her palms to quell the urge.  Just one touch, she told herself, as her hand came up just before he caught her.  Just one-

“Kathryn?”

“Hmm?” She shook her head, rousing herself from her musings and her arm fell obediently to her side. “What?”

“Are you listening? I said you just put in a coffee filter,” He pointed to the brown piece of paper that sat in the conical head portion of the foreign device. “And then you scoop in some coffee, add water to this back part, close the lid, and press this button.” And with that, the machine came to life and momentarily gave her something else to fixate on.   

“ _Good grief_!” She laughed. “This takes more input than changing a sensor relay! How did you know how to do that?”

He chuckled, “The traditionalists on Dorvan, maybe. I don’t remember.”

“Well…” She smiled as the warm aroma of coffee began to fill the room, followed by the drip of the brown ambrosia into the clear glass pot below. “I'll have to thank those traditionalists one day... Jan brought over the applications, and a computer. We have to figure that out and start sorting them.”

“Mmm,” Suddenly hungry, he looked towards the table before turning back to rummage in the pantry and find a variety of foodstuffs. “What’s this?” He held up a yellow tub reading ‘Bisquick’.

“I have no idea. Pancake mix,” She read out. “How do you make it?”

He turned the carton over, “Add milk and eggs, stir, and cook on a hot griddle or pan. Sounds easy enough. Do we have milk and eggs?”

“I’m not sure,” She brushed past the solidity of him again to browse in the fridge. “Looks like Jan thought of everything.” She smiled as she pulled out a carton reading milk, and a few eggs from the door.”

“What do you say we give it a go?” 

“Well,” Kathryn huffed, shrugging her shoulders with a grin. “We are explorers...”


	17. Chapter 17

“You know...” She drawled, sitting in front of the sleek laptop. “I’ve always had these notions that past technology was so much more inferior to our own. But this technology is quite advanced! The processors, the _displays_ … – it’s almost on par with something I’d have in my home back…” She stopped. In her home back on Earth? She was on Earth…

“I know,” He, looked back over his shoulder as he kept one eye one the griddle. “I was even surprised back in nineteen ninety six, at Chronowerx,” He caught himself. “Well, that technology _was_ stolen from the future…”

“But look what it produced!" Kathryn bubbled, her hands communicating her excitement.  "This is absolutely _fascinating_. It makes you wonder what else was lost in the Third World War.”

The mention of the event settled a familiar pit in her stomach. _Two_ years, she thought. Just two years from now. Suddenly another thought occurred to her and she was surprised that she hadn’t thought of it by now. “What about the shuttle?”

“It's in the forest," He sighed, a familiar anxiety riling his gut.  "Hidden behind rocks. But,” He turned around to her fully as he switched off the stove. “We-"

"Have to get rid of it," She pressured. "It won’t stay this cold or snowy forever and someone is going to find it. Are you sure all the systems are offline? Would there be _any_ power left to send out a distress beacon?” 

“It looked like the core was fused in the crash; that’s the only explanation that I can give. I tried everything, but nothing was working – even life support, which is usually the last system to fail, no matter how extensive the damage.”

She nodded solemnly. “Then we have to destroy it.”

He simply shut his eyes for a moment in acquiescence before bringing her the plate of pancakes. “I also found these in the fridge." He had retrieved a stick of butter and a half-full bottle of maple syrup.

“The only true accompaniments to a plate of fresh, warm pancakes.”

He sat down and tucked into his own plate. “Not bad.”

A half smile and a sigh escaped at the first bite. “Mmm, I almost forgot what non-replicator pancakes tasted like! Well done, Chakotay. Thank you.”

“Well now I can’t say I actually did anything but stir a few ingredients together. But,” he chuckled as he took another bite. “I’ll take credit where credit is due.”

She laughed before she looked at the stacks of papers in the bags on the floor. “It’s a little daunting,” He sighed, voicing her thought. “But we’ll figure it out.”

* * *

 

“ _Hodgkins lymphoma? Acute Myelogenous Leukaemia? Osteogenic Sarcoma?_ Chakotay I’ve never heard of any of these before!”

He shook his head, taking another sip of coffee. “I know. And they’re all children. Not that that’s not what we were expecting, but to see evidence of such illness and suffering at such a young age – it’s not right.”

“Their medications are palliative at best. Curative only in the best of circumstances – not that I’m any physician, but I still can’t believe it.”

For a moment she thought of the dichotomy of what she was saying; children still died in her time. That had been proved not a few months ago. They had found a lone Borg cube – the only survivors on board a few children. She smiled when she thought of how far those four children come since then, but her mild elation was only temporary; they’d lost two of them: a young man, and a precious little baby girl.

“What are you thinking about, Kathryn?” The unexpected touch of his hand on her cheek jolted her and she reflexively pulled back.

He should have known she would pull back.  She was conditioned; hardened to eschew love and comfort because that’s what made her the captain and set her apart from all the rest of them. “You’re not the captain here, Kathryn.” He said it before he had a chance to think not to.

Annoyance again reared its head – didn’t he know she knew that? She got up quickly, the chair falling in her haste. “I’m _well aware_ of the fact that I’m no _longer the captain_. For God’s sake, I’m no one here! There’s no record of us – we have _nothing_! This was supposed to be a routine mission!” Tears now in spite of herself and she angrily wiped them off her cheeks. 

“I know, Kathryn.” He whispered. “I know.”

Dejected she collapsed into one of the large soft chairs by the window. “Isn’t there a limit?” 

“A limit?” He asked, coming round to her, kneeling by the chair as she sobbed – a sight he’d never seen before in almost seven years of knowing her. His arms ached to take her in them – to hold her, to promise her that it would be all right.

“ _To how much suf-f-fering_ ," Her voice was wobbly while she wept.  " _O-ne per-son can ta-ak-e_ "  

“I’m sorry, Kathryn," He said, keeping his gaze down at the floor. "I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, and _I’m so sorry._ ”

“No,” She lifted his gaze to meet hers, tears wetting the corner of his eyes. “I-it’s not your f-fault. _It's m-mine_ ," She began to calm. "So I’m the one who's sorry.”

And she was; her poor behaviour had become a pattern. And over the years, she'd made it so that because she couldn’t kiss him, or make love to him, she yelled at him and in doing so he became her scapegoat.  

“How did we get like this?” She repeated her question from the night before after the silence. "How did  _I_ get like this?"  

He shook his head, still unwilling to tread down this path. “ _Kathryn,_ I-”

“ _Kathryn? Chakotay?_ ” A knock came at the door and they quickly wiped their eyes.   Was it already late afternoon?

“Yes, Jan!” She ran to the door, her mask back in place with a smile plastered on her features.

“How was your day?” The older woman smiled.

“Fine,” Kathryn demurred with a feigned air of serenity. “Just fine.”

“Wonderful. Now," She looked at her sideways, noticing her upset but saying nothing. "Gregg was wondering if Chakotay could help him with something out in the barn. And I was thinking I'd take you to Target to get a few things. Would that be alright?”

Out of the bedroom, Chakotay came into view. “Good afternoon, Jan. You said Gregg needed help in the barn?”

 “Hello dear,” She greeted him warmly. “Yes, he’s been having trouble fixing things in the last year because of his arthritis. Would that be alright?”

“Sure,” He smiled.

“Unless you want to come shopping with us?”

“No,” He shook his head, grinning. “Not much of a shopper.”

 _"Typical man!"_  Jan laughed. “You all think shopping is some sort of death sentence! Well that’s fine. Kathryn and I will have a good time. By the way,” She stopped Chakotay as he walked past her, bundled to the head with scarves and coats as he began the short walk up to the house. “What size are you?”

“I, uh-“

“Chakotay!” Gregg called from the house, waving from the top of the hill with a big grin on his face.

“That’s just fine, Chakotay,” She smiled. “Kathryn and I will take a guess. Off you go.”

“ _Men_ ,” Jan laughed and shook her head as she watched him go before she turned back to her companion. “Ready to go shopping?”


	18. Chapter 18

Kathryn stood rooted, looking on in awe; she’d never seen anything like this.  Bright lights.  People milling about, angling this way and that with large wheeled baskets full of all an aray of items.  Odd smells mingled from a cafe near the entrance, and a monotonous beep coming from the stations to her left let off at a consistent interval.  It was chaos and she was fascinated.  

“So, dear," Jan struggled with one of the wonky carts as it came loose from the line before they began their saunter through the brightly lit displays. "What do you usually wear?”

“Uh, well,” Her uniform, if she was honest. On rare occasion a period costume on the holodeck, and to events a red dress that Phoebe had bought for her. Once or twice, she'd gone out in a nice pant set that her mother gave her. “Pants usually.”

 Kathryn had never been that much of a shopper. She had rarely needed anything that would require going to a store; even the _concept_ was so passé in the twenty fourth century. Replicators provided most of the essentials for daily living. Shops were only for specialty items, of which Kathryn never needed any.

“You didn't get out of that uniform very much, do you?” Jan was perceptive.

 “No," She chuckled. "Not really.”

“Oh well," Jan bubbled, her eyes peeled to the clothing aisles with increasing interest.   "We’ll find you two some things to wear. Here," She left the cart and sauntered into the women's section. "We have the essentials: sweaters, t shirts, bras, underwear, socks, and jeans.”

The cloth was soft, she thought as she touched the T-shirts on display, choosing a few whose colour she liked.  "Those are nice," Jan picked up a few.  "I'd say a small.  What are you in jeans?"  

"A four," Kathryn remembered as Jan threw a large pile of shirts and trousers she'd selected into the cart.  

"Thought so," Jan winked and nodded towards the fitting rooms towards the back of the store.  "Try these on for size and we'll get a few of them."  

Alone in the small room, Kathryn slipped on the soft denim, appreciating the way they fit as she looked in the mirror.  The material was soft, unlike her uniform trousers.  And the shirts were of similar make - yielding and lovely.  "So?"  Jan took the pile out of her arms as she reappeared.  "They fit?"  

"Yes," Kathryn nodded gratefully.  "Thank you, Jan." 

Jan rolled her eyes and took her friend by the arm.  "Would you stop saying that?  Now," She help up a package and some bras while wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.  "Lingerie -  _essential."_

Kathryn laughed at her antics and stifled her thanks.  "Now what?"  

"Now," Jan resumed her foray with the cart as they wandered into the mens section.  "We need to shop for Chakotay.  What size do you think he wears?"  

"Uh," She tried to think. “I don’t know..."

“Well we’ll just guess. I’d say maybe a size thirty eight in pants...?" Jan held the jeans up in front of her and tried to imagine him wearing them.  "We’ll get a forty just in case, and a size extra large in shirts and sweaters. Why don’t you pick out something he’d like, Kathryn, and I’ll look for some other jeans? Oh," She looked back and gave a wink to the younger woman before she lost herself in the Levis. "And don’t forget _underwear_!”

Kathryn blushed. How was the hell she supposed to know what type of underwear he wore, or even _guess_? Well, she amended – she _could_ guess; her imagination over the years had become extensive as, too many times, she wondered what wore underneath those baggy uniform trousers... 

Jan was having too much fun with this, Kathryn thought when she saw the older woman's cheeky smirk just as she returned with the items in question. “All set?”

"Yes," Kathryn gave her a look as she laid her items in the piled cart.   "Now what?"

“Now food so you don't starve.”

“Jan,” Kathryn stopped suddenly overcome with being given so much selfless charity. “We just can’t accept all of this; you’ve done so much for us already-“

 _“Kathryn_ ,” Jan stopped her, rubbing her arm soothingly. “Consider it payment for the work you’re doing. If you stay on, we’ll compensate you _anyway_ for your work at the camp. Please, we _want_ to help you.”

"Okay," Kathryn nodded, still not convinced as a solemn smile perked her lips. “Thank you.”

"Fine then," The older woman jovially rolled her eyes and gently pushed her companion forward into the next aisle. "Now what do you two like to eat...?"  

* * *

 

 

Chakotay wasn’t ashamed to say that he missed her. He kept glancing at the clock on the wall; she’d been gone for four hours now.  He almost felt foolish for missing her. In fact, it almost made him angry that he missed her! That he didn’t feel quite right without her. “Chakotay?” Gregg broke his reverie. “You keep staring at that clock. You have somewhere to be?”

“No,” He smiled at the joke. “Just-“

Gregg wasn't completely immune. “You’re thinking about her aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the story between you two?” They had spoken of nothings for the past hour and a half in the barn. A few light bulbs needed replacing. And a patch needed to be mended in the barn wall where the wood had rotted out. Both jobs hadn’t taken too long, but Chakotay could see why Gregg needed the help. Plans were made to repair a few other spots when the weather got warmer.

He remained quiet for a moment to contemplate his answer, for surely the whole truth would be winded. “It’s complicated,” He demurred ambiguously.

Gregg wasn’t buying it. “But you’re in love with her?”

“Yes,” He answered automatically. He met the older man’s gaze. “Yes, I’m in love with Kathryn.” It felt good to say the words out loud, to confess to someone for it was a truth he’d held in his heart for so long. “Am I that obvious?”

“It’s obvious that you care about her,” Gregg sat on the large leather couch and motioned for Chakotay to follow. “Does she love you back?”

“I don’t know. Things are... _complicated_.”

He heard the sound of the truck in the driveway. “Women are back,” Gregg winked as he got up from his seat. “Listen, Chakotay I don’t know you well, nor do I know Kathryn. But you two… there’s something there-” 

 _“Gregg, Chakotay?"_ Jan called out from the foyer. _"Would you mind helping us get all this back to the cabin?_ ” 

“Goodness gracious, Woman!” Gregg laughed when he saw the state of them. “You are one helluva shopper!”

She smiled, putting the bags down and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “Good thing, otherwise it would _never_ get done! Chakotay, Kathryn," Jan turned back to them. "You two are on your own for dinner tonight. We have a meeting at the hospital at six, so we’d better be going soon!”

Chakotay looked at Kathryn standing uncomfortably in the foyer with the bags and bags of shopping weighing down her arms. “Hi,” He whispered as he put on his coat and boots before stooping to retrieve the parcels that Jan had dropped. “Is this all for us?”

“Yes,” She steeled herself. “Jan insisted.”

 _“Kathryn, Chakotay!_ ” Jan called from the hall before rushing into the foyer. “Will you be alright to get that back to the cabin? I’m afraid I wasn’t keeping track of time and now Gregg and I have to leave; we have to get to a hospital that’s a little father away.  Every couple of weeks we do patient reviews for the benefit of the medical students. They’re interesting, but it takes us so long to get to this other hospital! We’re the ones running it tonight so we’ve go to go!”

“Say no more, Jan,” Kathryn and Chakotay were halfway out the door. “And thank you again,” He added before the door shut, leaving them to traipse through the melting snow back to their new home.


	19. Chapter 19

“ _My arms are going to fall off_!” She whined as they trod clumsily into the small cabin and dumped the shopping in the bedroom.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much stuff before!" Chakotay's eyes widened when he took in her haul.  "What _on Earth_ did you get?”

“A lot,” She huffed as she rummaged in the bags. “Your things are in here somewhere amid the food, pans, towels….”

“Are _these_ for me?” He laughed, holding up a pair of black lace lingerie.

“ _Chakotay!_ " Her face went scarlet as she grabbed for them.  "Give _those_ back!”

“Not really my size, Kathryn,” He taunted as he held them above her head, out of reach. “But I do appreciate the thought.”

“ _Chako-tay_!” The deep rouge showed no signs of disappearing as she hopped up on the bed to his height and claimed her prise.  

"Just teasing," He told her with a cheeky grin as he watched her ferret the lingerie away.  “Where are mine?”

Her smile, though, stayed plastered to her face. “They should be in one of the bags," She tossed on at him.  "Keep looking.”

“Those are yours,” He'd found the bag with a pair of jeans and sweatpants in them. “I hope they fit. I didn’t know your size. Jan guessed a thirty eight or forty. But I have no idea what those numbers mean.”

“Neither do I, but _thank you_ ,” He said. “It’ll be good to get out of Gregg’s sweat pants.”

“Sure," Kathryn nodded and handed him another pile of his things.  "Try on these shirts.  And, uh, your underwear,” She cleared her throat and tried to tamp down the blush that she felt resurfacing. “I hope-“

“They’ll be fine. Thank you Kathryn.” He whispered, taking the items off of her. “I appreciate it.”

“You _wouldn’t believe_ the store, Chakotay. It was like no place that I’d ever been!”

“Really?” He moved the bags to sit on the bed facing her as she unloaded the rest of the items. “Tell me about it.”

“Massive, is the only word that describes it.” She stopped her rummaging to look at him, excitement dancing around her smoky blue eyes. “I’d never seen so many things in one place before in my life. There was everything from clothes to food to housewares and electronics - all in one place!”

“Really?” He laughed, imagining it. “You’ll have to take me sometime.”

“If we stay,” She faltered, quieting her excitement. “If we stay, I’m sure I’ll take you there.”

“If Voyager doesn’t find us,” He asked, keeping her gaze. "Then you'll take me."

She dropped her shoulders, the smile disappearing from her face. “They won’t find us. They _can’t_ find us. I keeping thinking this is a joke from Q, or some sort of payback from Braxton…”

"More payback?" Chakotay squinted.  "I thought he returned to his own century and restored his timeline?"  

 Kathryn took a deep breath to tell him something that she’d never mentioned; that had been kept out of ships logs and all personal conversation. “He did,  But there's something I never told you.  About a year ago I disappeared from the ship with Seven of Nine. We were taken aboard a Timeship called the Relativity where we met Captain Braxton and another gentleman whose name I forget.   _Apparently,_ Braxton did hold quite a grudge against me so much so that he had planted traps-"

"Traps?"  

"Time bombs, essentially, on Voyager to ensure our destruction."  She watched his confused expression as she continued.  "Braxton partially in custody, Seven and I were sent back to stop the final destruction of the ship and apprehend Braxton before he could go through with his plan.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me about this _then?_ ” His tone was subdued, but underneath the surface a familiar rage rumbled. 

“I couldn’t.”

 _“Bullshit_ , Kathryn!” He got up and started pacing the tiny space around the bed. “This isn’t the first time you’ve kept things from me. Dammit sometimes I feel like I’m just your token Maquis.  Something to hang on your damn wall to make you feel good about yourself and to keep the Maquis in line!”

“ _Chakotay_ -“ She pleaded.

“ _No_!" His admonishment was vicious and his gesticulation just as fervent. "It’s true. You never listen to me! You haven’t for years now! You manipulate me, you use me; when you don’t want my opinion you remove me from duty - and on the _rare_ off chance you do take my advice, you almost have to be bullied into it under some sort of _threat_!” 

“I’m sorry,” Her voice quivered in brokenness as she acquiesced truth of his words spoken so passionately as she tried and failed to hold in another round of tears. "I'm so  _sorry,_ Chakotay."  

He sat down on the bed beside her as he deflated. “I know you are, Kathryn. I know. But it’s not all right.”

“Is that why you’re angry with me?” 

He shook his head, staring at their feet and the floor. “Yes. But I don’t know when I got _so_ angry."  

“How do I make it right, Chakotay? How do I _fix_ us?"  She pleaded with him. "I can’t _do this_ without you. I can’t bear your anger, or your hatred. _Everything_ is changing," She snuffled.  "Has changed. And so fast that I don’t know how to keep up.”

“I don’t hate you, Kathryn,” He whispered, moving close but not touching her. “I don’t hate you, I…” He stopped himself this time. “I don’t hate you.”

“Okay,” She let herself calm before she spoke again, softly this time. “We’re lost, Chakotay, and it's all my fault. What have I  _done?"_ _  
_

“You didn’t do anything, Kathryn.  Things like this, they just happen - more to us than anyone else," Chakotay tried to force a smile for her benefit.  "But they do - _just happen_.  Come on," He got up off the bed and made his way into the living room. "Let’s calm down and get the rest of this put away and then have some dinner.”


	20. Chapter 20

“It’s nice to have sleep clothes that fit,” He smiled, walking out of the bathroom in his new sweatpants and T-shirt.

“Mmm,” She grinned back at him from under the covers. “They suit you. Is that what you wore to bed on Voyager?”

A blush came up and covered his cheeks. “Um, no.” He shook his head as he turned off the light near the bed ands settled on top of the covers. He could see her eyebrow cock quizzically. “I, uh, didn’t wear _anything_ to bed on Voyager.”

She almost chuckled, but it failed miserably. Instead, all there was was that familiar tingle between her legs, which she drew into her body and tightened to quell the sensation. “Oh,” Was all she could manage. “Well goodnight, Chakotay.”

For a while they lay still in the silence of their room, neither of them moving in the frigidity of the dark room.  She was cold; even under all these covers she was too cold to sleep. And in a moment, he could feel it, subtly at first, but then more noticeably. “Kathryn?”

“I’m fine,” She whispered. “Just cold.”

Truth be told, he was freezing as well; for the past few nights he'd barely been able to feel his fingers and toes. In his effort to give her space, they were both so far apart that there was no heat shared between them. “Well,” He didn’t know how to phrase what he was going to say. "We-" 

“We could share,” She chittered, completing his sentence for him.

He shouldn’t be daft, but ,“Share?”

“You know," She turned to him. "You could come under here with me.”

He almost groaned at the thought. He was a grown man, in charge of his bodily urges – but he’d never been potentially this close to her.  Well, he amended, only in  _very private thoughts..._

“Please,” She shuddered again. “I can't get any sleep like this and you can't either.”

"You're right,”  He remembered the poor sleep he'd gotten over the past few days.  And though he could chock it up to their radical paradigm shift, he knew that it was due in part to not being able to get to sleep at night.  

She could hear the resignation in his voice as he got out of bed only to rearrange the blankets over the main comforter. He steeled himself before he climbed in next to her. “Um, Kathryn.” He cleared his throat before his body touched hers. “I’d like to apologize in advance for any _untoward_ -“

“It’s fine, Chakotay.” Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, competing with the cold and the shivering for which sensation her brain would register. She had never been _this_ close to him - only in her fantasies. And reflexively, a sticky wetness pooled between her thighs, which she tamped harder together to quell the sentiment bubbling there. 

Her body was small, he thought, delicate but strong as he cradled himself against her and tried to make the most out of their shared warmth. The sensation was rich, but he couldn’t enjoy it; he kept thinking of anything, absolutely _anything,_ to ignore the fact that her bottom was pressed deliciously against the most potent source of his pleasure.  

Heat oozed off of him as she settled against him. His right arm curled lightly over her waist and she fit against him with her head just under his chin and her back into his chest. “Better,” She whispered as her shivering abated.  

"Mm," He nodded sleepily.  “Goodnight, Kathryn.”


	21. Chapter 21

Morning came swiftly, she always thought - perhaps a little too swiftly as the early dawn light illuminating the room, urging her eyes to open.  For a moment she lay still, lured by the arm around her waist and the warmth shared between them.  Sleeping like this for the past couple of weeks had become natural to them; what had started out with a tinge of trepidation had slowly metamorphosed into a means of indescribable comfort.  

She let her thoughts drift to her ship again, to the all the people that she loved on board. What were they doing, she wondered; where were they?   Not a detail left unmemorised, she traced the cavities of the ship; the intricacies of the bridge, her ready room, her quarters... And not for the first time, a pang of loss settled in her chest.  This was her grieving.  

Almost a little too briefly, the last week had passed them by. Christmas, not that Kathryn had been paying attention, had come and gone with little consequence. Jan and Gregg hosted a small Christmas party for the medical students and interns who had been on call.  She had nearly laughed at the sight of them hobbling in through the front door. The lot of them looked too much like herself during her early days in the Academy; dishevelled, tired.  

The cabin was always too cold in the morning, she thought as she peeled away the covers and stepped onto the icy floor before she looked back to make sure she'd not woken him.  In her growing mental catalogue of things about him, she had quickly noted Chakotay's penchant for sleeping.  Taken off the ship and out of the strict schedule he'd been fit into, he could stay like this all day.  And sometimes she was tempted to let him if for no other reason than to watch him.  

He looked different in repose; not younger, just happier.  Supine, the wrinkles on his forehead smoothed and showed off the sweeping lines of his tattoo.  And his hair, she smiled as she reached her hand out, touching it softly so he wouldn't notice: it fell messy, long and boyish.  

Even though they shared a bed, there was no intimacy between them.  After the first night, she had learned that the responses he generated were nothing more proximity - fomented by their respective abstinences.  And he held her, she frowned, not because he loved her, but because it was the easiest way to get to sleep.  When they were on New  Earth, there was an unspoken inevitability to their rapport; they were the only two people on a whole planet.  And there was the assumption that one day they would become lovers.  But more than their extreme degree, that expectation existed because that final step was what they had been careening towards since they day they'd met.  And, if she believed in Fate, even before.  

He woke slowly, tugged to consciousness by a small tickle on his face.  Disoriented, his eyes flew open to find a scene he never expected.  " _Kathryn?"_

So engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't notice he'd opened his eyes and now, had found her fingers dabbling in his hair.  "Oh," She pulled her hand away, startled like a child'd whose hand had met a hot stove.  "Good morning uh-" She cleared her throat and began to move off the bed before he caught her hand.

"What were you doing?"  He yawned, not angry but amused.  

Abashed, she looked down to hide her face and shook her head.  "Nothing," She whispered.  "Just watching you sleep."  

"Oh," A flutter spread through his belly as Kathryn had never been so bold with him before.  She had touched him yes, but never something so chastely intimate.  "Well," He yawned through a smile.  "Are you hungry?"  

"Well," She looked up at him with a tell-tale smirk.  "What I really would like-"

"Is a cup of coffee?"  He finished for her.  

"Mm," Kathryn nodded her head and shared his look before something else occurred to her.  "Chakotay?"  

"Yes, Kathryn?"  

"We haven't talked about the shuttle since a few weeks ago."  

He took a deep breath and let it out as he pulled himself up against the headboard.  "It's not like us to forget about something like that."

"No," She agreed.  "But we have to destroy it, bury it somehow."  

"It's in an isolated enough spot," He remembered the place, albeit hazily now that a few weeks had passed.  "At the base of a small climb."  

Kathryn pulled herself back up onto the bed and drew her leg up to her chin.  "But how are we going to bury it with just the two of us?"  

"I don't know.  Somehow," He thought for a moment.  "We'll have to trigger a small avalanche and hope that we can bury it."

"But the shuttle has no power?"  

"Well," He shrugged. "You're the engineer.  If I recall, you were as good as B'Elanna at generating energy out of thin air."  

She rolled her eyes in amusement.  "I'll check it out.  We'll go on Monday, after Jan and Gregg have left for work."  

"It wasn't far from here - maybe a three kilometre walk."  

Kathryn nodded her head, taking a deep breath as she started off the bed again and indicated for him to do the same.  "You'd sleep all day if I let you," She joked as they walked out into the tiny kitchen.  

"That I would," He grinned.  "I've always been a good sleeper."  

"So," She handed him the can of coffee as he readied the rest of the machine.  "Monday."  

"Yes," He told her.  "Monday." 

 


	22. Chapter 22

The cabin was still again, silent as they lay cradled to one another in the darkness of a winter's night.  “It's almost New Years.” His breath tickled her ear and she stifled the urge to laugh.

"That's right," She remembered the date on the calendar.  "Midnight tonight."  

"What are your resolutions?"   

“I don’t make them.” She lied before she backtracked. “Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“Oh?”

“On Voyager I resolved every year to get the crew home. _But_ ,” She paused. “I guess that particular resolution doesn't really apply anymore. What about yourself?”

“I never make them,” She felt his chuckle.  "I can never keep them."  

She nodded against the pillow. "I know the feeling. But we should make some now.”

“Why?”

“Because...” Kathryn thought.  "Why not?  Maybe we can keep them this year."  

"Okay," His arm tightened around her waist as he repositioned himself.  "What do you want to resolve?"  

" _To be happy_ ," She spoke simply, willing the impossible - _resolving_ it.  

"You're not happy."  It wasn't a question. 

"No." She told him honestly.

"Tell me," He said to her, knowing the reasons, but for once wanting to hear them in her own words.  

“Because I was the captain," Kathryn let her stream of consciousness into spoken word. "I wasn’t supposed to be happy after what I’d done.  After how many families I tore apart, the people I lost, after everything that had happened...”

In her own head, she could hear his gentle rebuttal; how she’d _saved the Ocampa_.  How _her mission was a success_.  How they’d _surveyed the Delta Quadrant_ and _were gathering enough data to keep Starfleet’s scientists occupied for years_ , or something like that.  But in this moment, he said nothing.  

“Hey,” His arm tightened around her waist.  "What?"  

She turned her head against the pillow to try and look at him.  "I thought you were going to give me that speech again."  

"Which one?"  He laughed.  

"The one you gave me a few years ago."

"Before we met the Malon," He remembered the words he'd said to her.  All of them true, had been meant to comfort her.  But more than that, they were meant to absolve himself.   

"Yes."  

"Well," He shook head, giving an impression of a grin. "I wasn't."

"Oh."

" _Maybe_ ," He amended his previous words.  "Your decision to save the Ocampa and destroy the array might have been construed foolish and reckless by some, but not to me. What you did saved my life, Kathryn. You saved all of the Maquis."  

He suppressed a shudder as he thought about what might have happened if her mission truly was a success.  "I might be rotting in a Cardassian prison by now. More likely I would be dead. And so would B’Elanna, Chell, Mike Ayala, Ken… all the people that we love. So, _no_ , Kathryn.  I said all that to you back them because it was the truth.  Because I never considered your decision imprudent."  

Tears streaked down her cheeks at the thought of her life without this man. And he was right; if she hadn’t destroyed the array, he _would_ be in prison along with all of the people that she had come to cherish. And she would have handed him over - _proudly_ \- and gone on with her life without a look back. So, armed with this new perspective, she found part of a  weight receding from her shoulders. 


	23. Chapter 23

She hadn’t worn her uniform for weeks now; she’d kept the pants and the undershirt – they weren’t conspicuous or novel. But the jacket she’d folded it away along with her pips and comm. badge.  They had no use for them here. But this morning, it seemed fitting to wear all of it.  

It had only been a few weeks, but putting on their complete uniforms felt strange somehow, like they didn’t fit in with the mindset they’d been in. 

She turned to him, handing him her four pips and he affixed them to her collar for the last time. She did the same with his Maquis rank bar.

Nothing was spoken; everything they needed to communicate was done with their eyes, their body language, or the touch of a hand. A long time ago, they'd learned that words weren’t always needed.

Chakotay was patient with her through all of this.  He gave her space, place to breathe, to think. And he made no demands on her. She often wondered how one man could endure so much and still be so unassumingly kind.

The past weeks, though difficult, had been somewhat of a revelation in that respect. All of their time was spent together, working, collaborating, talking, and sleeping. At night they would lay close and dialogue through their new life; the new things they experienced, the applications for the camp, Jan and Gregg, what the future might hold. Or they would reminisce about Voyager, about their crew and friends, and anything else that came to mind.

She’d forgotten how much she loved talking with him. Of course they’d had conversations. _Allegedly,_ they were best friends. But even that was somewhat fallacious; they had shared dinners and meetings, laughs over the crew - but never was it ever quite so intimate as it was now.  

On the ship, she reminded herself, things were different.  Then, she was trying to maintain a level of command.  But more than that, she hadn't wanted to get this close to him. Subconsciously, she knew that once that box was opened, a thousand things would tumble out and they would both be powerless to stop it. But still, in the light of their new life, she wondered how she had been able to maintain that facade with such a stringency.

The snow had melted somewhat, leaving a cold slushy mix in its place. But for the first time, he could see patches of dirt peeking through, small glimpses of earth. He led the way with her following slightly behind him as they made their way down the road. It was his first time in weeks being off the property.  Somehow, it hadn’t even occurred to him that it had been so long. 

He remembered the route almost instinctively and when they got to the road, he recalled that it wasn’t too long until Jan had turned down onto the driveway after she’d picked them up. "This was the way I carried you," He told her, speaking for the first time since they'd left the house.  "I thought this forest went on forever." 

"This was when you first saw snow," She caught up with him.  "And an Indiana pine forest."

"Yes," He took a deep breath of the frigid air as they walked a little further to the clearing.  "This is it."  

“You were right,” She demurred, her eyes taking in the scene in front of her. “It’s well hidden. I just hope no one’s seen it…”

“I don’t think so; if it they had, it would be in the news, and I haven’t seen anything on any of the online newspapers.”

He had been looking, on the Internet almost since they had gotten the computer. Like a true anthropologist, it enthralled him. In the twenty fourth century, everything one could ever want to know was stored on databases. But the Internet was a new kind of treat that he had only read about in history books. The bevy of knowledge available engrossed him and he read everything he could about this time – the _politics_ , the _culture._ Anything and Everything.  

Kathryn gasped when she finally saw the shuttle and the state that it was in. It was a wonder that they had survived and escaped with so few injuries as the hull was sickeningly cratered, as were the starboard and port sides.   

“It’s useless.” She stated rhetorically, knowing full well a shuttle like this was just as good as scrap. “You were right.”

“Let’s go inside and salvage whatever we can.  The ground might be frozen," He wondered out loud. " But hopefully the craft can generate enough heat to melt the soil somewhat and bury itself."

She nodded, as she walked past him and stepped inside. It was eerily strange, to be surrounded by something so familiar again. The consoles were black, devoid of power - useless. So, she scoured the compartments, putting padds, both medkits, and whatever else she could into her bag.

Chakotay was situated in front of the power grid off to port. Frustratingly, he was having no luck generating even an iota of energy.

“Here,” She moved up behind him, gently taking the hypospanner from his hand as she manipulated the wires. “This,” She explained as a spark signalled a small flicker of energy and the shuttle came weakly to life. “Should be enough to trigger the self destruct and bury the shuttle.”

She took two quick steps over to the command console and deftly operated the controls as she valiantly stayed the growing the tremor of her hands. This was it, she thought; the destruction of the shuttle truly signalled the end of their former lives unless by some act of Chance Voyager was still able to find them.

“ _Self Destruct sequence initiated_ ,” The familiar voice of the computer was weak and stringy as systems came barely to life for the last time.

“We have to leave,” She took his hand and hurried out of the chair before they stepped off the shuttle and closed the hatch.

They hurried away as the craft rumbled the ground underneath it. Crossing her fingers, she prayed it would work.  It was grotesque, she thought, to watch it displace, pummelled by rocks and ice as the earth swallowed it - took one of the last true vestiges of their former life.

Almost as soon as it began, the craft disappeared from view. If it was found in the future, well maybe… maybe what? Maybe they’d know what happened to Captain Janeway and her First Officer? Would it even _matter?_

"Well," She felt his fingers squeeze her hand as she filled her lungs with a deep, restorative breath.  

"That's it, then." Turning back towards their trail, he tugged at her.    

Like Lot's wife, though, she couldn't resist one last look.  "Come on, Kathryn."  He called again - knowing that lingering would only prolong her melancholy.  "Let's go home."    


	24. Chapter 24

A fittingly pensive silence pervaded the space around them as they walked back the way they came.  Kathryn was lost to herself as she passed between the trees, thinking back on her life and what had brought them to this point.

“My father,” Kathryn began as her throaty alto pierced the calm tranquility of the forest. “Used to call me his Golden Bird. I don’t know why. I never asked him. I was just so used to it growing up. Maybe it was because of my hair.   _Golden Bird_ , he’d say and he’d get this twinkle in his eye," She remembered. " _Don’t be afraid if things don’t always go your way. You can’t control everything in life. You just do your best, and hope for the rest…_ ”

Again, she fell contemplatively silent for the next few steps before she stopped walking, abruptly halting his movement as well. He turned and she stared straight at him.  “But I haven’t done my best. We don’t _belong_ here, Chakotay. And we’re never getting back to Voyager, unless by some unlikely miracle.” She looked away and sighed heavily before rejoining his gaze. “ _This_ is our life now.”

He cocked his head to the side, keeping her gaze. “Your father was a wise man.” He took a step closer to her, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her porcelain features longer than could be considered friendly. “He knew what a _perfectionist_ you are.” He smiled, eliciting a similar grin from her. “And he knew that you had a terrible penchant for blaming yourself for things that were out of your control. Just let it go, Kathryn. None of this was your doing. Not the ship being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, not the deaths of Cavit, or Stadi, Lindsay Ballard, Jack Hogan, or any of them. And neither is it your fault that we’re here now. So let it _go_.”

Tears gnawed at her, fighting for release. She could hold them in most times, but not now; the pressure built and they spilled over on to her cheeks as he tenderly wiped them away and drew her into his arms.

_Let it go, Golden Bird._

* * *

 

 He removed her pips one by one, slowly and reverentially. Reciprocally she removed his rank bar and they placed the lot of them in their shared bureau, hidden from view and left to be forgotten. He turned his back and together they removed their uniforms, changing and folding the red and black garments carefully, replacing them in the blackness of the closet.

She turned to him, admiring his form in the jeans that Jan had bought. They suited him, Kathryn thought; he looked like he was meant to wear them. The boxy cut hung well on his slim hips and gave a tantalizing hint of what lay underneath without being revealing. He looked handsome – not that he didn’t usually, but seeing him like this made her heart stop.

“Will you say them now, Chakotay?”

He turned, meeting her gaze. “Say what, Kathryn?”

“Will you say all the things to me that you’ve wanted to say for the last six and a half years? I want…” She vacillated for a moment, looking away before looking back into dark brown eyes. “Well, it's a new year, and this is our new life, and so I want to start fresh. So, now will you say all the things you’ve want to say to me - so we can start over?”

Without moving his features or losing her eye, he moved to the other side of the bed and took her hand, leading her out into the sitting room.  “Everything?”

“Yes, Chakotay. Everything.”


	25. Chapter 25

For years they had been tumbling towards this conversation.  The words unspoken between them were heavy, ladening the atmosphere with a dreaded expectancy.  She sat slowly, facing him as they watched each other in the silence.  

“Kathryn,” He smiled at her posture - her look of hesitancy. “This isn’t an inquisition.”

She laughed nervously. “You're right.  But I can only imagine what you have to say."  

"Why?" He laughed.  "Do you think I'm going to attack you?"  

"I don't know," She closed her eyes and shook her head, maintaining a half-grin.  "I suppose there have just been so many times-"

"Times you’ve pushed me away. Sometimes you’ve made me feel terrible just for showing you compassion, or trying to give you advice, but that..." He stopped and let out a breath.  "Was a different life."  

"You can't let things go so easily," She pressed in bafflement.  "After _everything_."  

He shrugged and looked down, ignoring her while turning over the one question he'd wanted the answer to since the debacle a year ago.  " _Did you sleep with him_?"  He whispered into the settled reserve.  

She looked up, eyes wide as she met his pointed glare. “Who?”

“Kashyk. Did you sleep with him to help the Brenari.”

Her heart sank with the memory. Kashyk; he was a far forgotten memory. She’d gambled dangerously with him. At the time it had been enthralling; he was an enigma with his darkly charming personality. And he had been a challenge - a good puzzle for her to solve. She would have been lying to say she hadn’t enjoyed him.  And she had thought of something more with him than just a Judas kiss. But, “No."

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “And, uh -”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Huh?”

“You were going to ask about Michael, the hologram. No.” She had to smile; so, he had been jealous.

“Oh.” 

“It was nice,” She looked away, remembering her two amorous pursuits. “To be desired like that again. To be wanted.  And not just because I was the captain, but because I was a woman.”

He inhaled deeply. He’d always wanted her – never because she was the captain, always because she was a woman. Every day, he had wanted to tell her how magnificently beautiful she was; how he’d never wanted, nor would ever want a woman like he did her. And not only because of her beauty, but because of her _heart_ , her _warmth_ , her belief in good and a  willingness to love for it and grant second chances.

“Kathryn, I-“

“And _you_ , Chakotay," She turned the accusation back on him.  "Wasn’t it only _months_ after we left New Earth that you ran straight into the arms of Riley Frazier?" 

“That’s not fair, Kathryn," He shot her a warning look.  "I was expertly manipulated by her.  She used me to further her agenda and made me think I was in love with her-“

“Isn't that always the way it goes with you?" She huffed an accusatory breath.  

“What are _you saying_ , Kathryn?” 

“You’re always the goddamn victim with women aren’t you?  Remember Kellin?"

His eyes narrowed. "How did you remember anything about her?"  

She rolled her eyes.  "You're not the only one who can write a log on piece of paper."  

“So I have a shitty love life, is that what you’re saying? The only women I think I fall in love with _manipulate_ me?" He fought back, seeing red when he regarded the _old_ Kathryn before him.   "Let’s talk about Seska while we’re at it! And we can’t forget _you_!”

He said it before he thought it through, and regret immediately oozed from every pore. It wasn’t how he wanted to say it; it’s not how he wanted her to hear it.

The room went silent, as the temperature seemed to rise a few degrees. The only sounds that penetrated were the sounds of heavy breathing as they stared, livid with one another.

Her angry exterior fell away to expose the frail and broken woman underneath. “I deserved that.”

Defeated, he sat back down into the chair, rubbing his eyes and beating away the fatigue. “I was so so frustrated with you after the our first encounter with the Borg. I remember arguing with you in the briefing room before you made that ill-fated alliance – telling you it was a bad idea. But there was no point to any of it! You were going to go through with it regardless of anything I said.  The same in fluidic space – you used me. And I went along with it because I was so in love with you. And you used that love to its full extent. I know,” He felt guilty in his admission, knowing that he’d done that for the good of the ship. But if he was honest, he did it for her. “I never wanted to let you down. And then, that night before we attempted the transwarp conduit – I knew I should have made more of a case. But when you wanted something, Kathryn, it didn’t matter who you had to step on or who you had to manipulate...”

“ _I know_ ,” She whispered. “I became _that_ captain. The one I never wanted to be; the one I _swore_ I would never be.”

“You changed, and I couldn't seem to draw you out of that shell that kept closing around you. You’ve been living in an echo chamber for the past six years where all you hear is your own voice. And after a certain point, I didn’t know how to break through. So I stopped fighting, and maybe I shouldn’t have.”

She looked up, meeting his eyes. “No, it’s my-“

“Fault?” He smiled wryly at her. “No.  I would have become the same way. No one could live like you have been and not have hardened; it was the nature of our life out there. So I understand why you did it, and why I did it. But I don’t want to live like that anymore. Here,” He looked around the room. “Here we’re equals, and I won’t go back to the way things were.”


	26. Chapter 26

Kathryn looked at him tentatively. "Do you think that we can forgive each other after everything? Or," She caught her breath.  "Is there nowhere to go from here?"    

Wearing a silly grin, Chakotay moved from his chair to kneel in front of her.  "Forgive?" He whispered.  "There's nothing to forgive."

"Forgive me for being so cold towards you," She pushed, wishing he would demand more from her.  "Forgive me for brushing aside your feelings for so long. For making you feel _less_ than you are."  

Warm fingers wiped the saline that meandered down her cheek.  "When you love someone," He said simply.  "You'll forgive them anything."  

" _You love me_ ," She whispered half in question, and half in statement.  "After everything you still love me."  

He nodded shyly and kept his distance from her as she came to terms with his frank admission.  But then, she reached for him and he intercepted, wrapping her in warm arms as she shook in her relief. "Yes," He said.  "I do." 

The remained like this for a while; holding one another and revelling in the joy of sharing that comfort.  “ _Chakotay_ ,” She whispered his name after a time. And when he didn't answer she asked again. “Chakotay?”

“Yes, Kathryn?” He breathed her in. All of her: the fragrance of her hair, the scent of her skin. This wasn’t the first time he held her. Rather, he held her every night. But it was different - there was nothing remotely romantic about it. It had solely been to share a certain warmth and closeness. But now, he noticed the small things about her body that he wouldn’t let himself catalogue before; the softness of her breasts against his chest, the slightness of her arms, the silkiness of her hair against his cheek..

Kathryn wanted to be honest with him and make her own precious confessions.  She wanted to tell him all the things she’d quietly spoken a million times into the solitude of her quarters and even in her dreams, but never to him.

She moved out of his arms and her hands came up to cradle his handsome face.  Her thumbs traced his cheeks, the steep incisiveness of them and she marvelled at the softness of his skin.  He leaned into her touch, pressing into her palms while her fingers skidded the soft sideburns.  " _Open your eyes_ ," She whispered, meeting his sight with a satisfied grin.  

A connection solidified between them then and she let everything she felt for him stumble to the forefront while she continued her diligent study. “I _love_ you Chakotay. I have for so long now that it's hard to remember a time that I didn't.  And I'm sorry for the way things were, but I didn't know how to change them.  I didn't know how to _be_ with you.  _I'm_ -”

"Shh," He quieted her gently with a devilishly dimpled grin as he took her into his arms again.  "You  _love_ me."

"Yes," She smiled shyly.  "I do."   

And for now, that was enough.  


	27. Chapter 27

She had always had these naïve, girlish notions of the two of them.  She thought back briefly to the night before they used the transwarp conduit. The scene in her quarters had been set for seduction; more candles than could be considered appropriate for a business dinner, special flowers from the airponics bay, and an impressive replicated dinner that she’d slaved over for days beforehand.  

In her imagination, she’d said the words to him and watched the emotion play out on his features; he was elated, immediately responding with some foolish pre-contrived words of his own. And the rest of the fantasy followed some engineered schematic that was worthy of a holonovel, or one of B’Elanna’s Klingon romances; he would grab her into his arms, push her against the wall – not too roughly, but assertive enough.  And she would melt as his erection nudged her thigh, his breath warming her neck, and his eyes piercing hers.   

She’d taken catalogue of him in secret on New Earth, furtively watching him work outside on his projects, or when he went to the creek to swim.  Once, the day had been sweltering and he’d removed his shirt, letting the sun bathe and glint off of damp honey skin.  She never remembered seeing a man like that so exposed.  Of course she wasn’t sexually naïve; she’d been engaged twice. But neither of them were every so...  _dare she even commit the thought_? Masculine, enthralling, captivating, or had _quite_ so much sex appeal.   

Over the years, she itemised what she could and used it to fuel her fantasies of him; of them; of their non-life together. When she looked back on it, it was absolutely foolish.  Both of them, together every day, sharing work and stories, distractedly in love with one another but too proud or too shy or too obstinate to admit it.  

“Where are you, Kathryn?” He whispered, looking up at her as his knees started to cramp from kneeling on the hard floor.

“Here, with you.” Her hand came up to touch his face, to smooth over the intricate tattoo over his left eye. 

“No.” He intercepted her hand before she met his skin.  “You’re far away.”

“I was thinking.” Her posture yielded as she let out a full breath. “About us.  About how much-“

“Kathryn,” he smiled, silencing her with a soft finger over her lips.  “This could go on for days – both of us regretting the past and drugging up ancient hurt.  And we still can, but later. I want to savour this moment with you.” 

“It’s late,” she stated rhetorically to break the silence.  The dusk was already setting, and the lights were on in Jan and Gregg’s house up on the hill, but they would let them be.  Jan and Gregg gave them space, privacy to work and to live.  They had their own lives to lead, their own work. Over the past three weeks, they’d fallen into a routine; Chakotay and Kathryn would sort applications during the day, reading them from front to back and cataloguing them in the computer. The older couple left them to their own devices, trusting them implicitly, even in spite of knowing little to nothing about them.  But they were grateful for the help; happy to enjoy a semblance of retirement and having more time to teach their students at the hospital.   Kathryn laughed at herself as she stood from the chair.  “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, Chakotay…” 

“Kathryn,” his eyes were kind as she looked up at him.  “We don’t have to-“ 

“I want to,” she rubbed her face.  "I want _you_ so badly. But I’m _nervous,_ for lack of a better word. He grinned at her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as she continued.  “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about making love to you. _So many times_..but I-"   

“I’m nervous, too,” he blurted, cutting her off.  “Terrified, even." 

They both laughed in tandem at the absurdity of the situation.  “It figures,” she grinned.  “Nothing ever goes according to plan.”

“Well, not with us, anyway.”

“No,” she shook her head, looking at the cabin around them, reminding herself again that it was 2014, not 2376. “Certainly not with us.”

"No," He shook his head, making a face.  "Coffee?"  

The suggestion made her laugh.  "For once, I think I'll pass.  I've had enough adrenaline for one day, I don't need any caffeine." 

"Kathryn Janeway turns down coffee," He teased.  "This is a moment for the books."  

"Mm," She chuckled.  "An aberration, I assure you."

"Well," One hand on his neck, he perused the room in front of him.  "We could do some more work..." 

"I was thinking about going to bed." 

"Bed?" He looked at her dumbly.  "Kathryn, we don't have to-"  

"Oh I know," She jumped to.  "I meant to sleep."  

"Oh," He nodded as he followed her, somewhat disappointed, into the bedroom.  "Right.  Sleep." 

His reaction brought out a guffaw from deep in her belly as she took her sweatpants and T-shirt out of her drawer.  "I'm not _that_ kind of girl, Chakotay."  She teased and watched his cheeks redden.   _  
_

"I wasn't," He tittered anxiously and shook his head.  "I wasn't-"

"Of course not. But  _I_ was," Her palm hit his arm as she brushed passed him into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.  

"Wait," He called through the door. "So you want to-?"

Opening the small door to reveal her modest sleeping attire.  "Well not  _now."_ She tormented as she moved back the covers and settled into the bed.  

"Right." He nodded his head and moved into the bathroom.  

In his absence, a devilish grin stole her lips.  "Of course..." She called.  

He opened the bathroom door to reveal his scowl, drawing a laugh from her.  " _Kathryn_." 

" _Fine_ ," She rolled her eyes again as he stood amusedly glaring at her.  "Well what are you waiting for?"  She flipped back the blankets on his side of the bed.  "I'm getting cold in here without you."  


	28. Chapter 28

It wasn’t late, barely gone eight o’clock. But the day had levelled more than a few emotions, leaving them tired and spent. So he was content to hold her, like he always did, as they looked out the window at the clear night sky, to gaze at the stars and the bright full moon.

“They’re out there,” He whispered into her ear, his breath warming her neck and tickling the baby hairs behind her ear.

“They feel so far away. They _are_ so far away,” Kathryn amended. “All of it. Everything about our lives; what it was – our mission, our crew. Neelix’s quibbles in the messhall, B’Elanna and Seven’s arguments, Tom and Harry’s repartee on the bridge...”

“I know.” They fell quiet again, each consumed by their own thoughts until he spoke again.  "Thank you, Kathryn."  

His statement confused her as she turned in his arms to look at him. “Why?”

“For this,” His warm arm drew her closer with a hand resting lightly on her waist.

She smiled, still confused. “Chakotay, we’re not _doing_ anything.”

“Being here with you, being able to say that I love you. That’s something.”

A pit settled in her throat and she tried to quench it with a smile, but failed miserably and looked away. “How long were you going to wait, Chakotay?” She whispered, staring aimlessly at a piece of lint on his white T-shirt.

“I wanted to be with you, Kathryn. I kept hoping that we’d get home, But,” He stopped suddenly. “Have you known all these years?”

She thought back to the early days of their voyage, back to the days of New Earth. “Sometimes, I thought maybe. In the early days I was still engaged. It didn't mean much, but it didn't change the fact. Then, I wondered how it would look to the crew. I thought that it might undermine command, that it would hinder my judgment, be a distraction. But that wasn’t the truth,” She inhaled a deep breath. “I was scared to love you fully, Chakotay. From far away, I _loved_ you more than I’d loved _any_ man; and I’d thought that I was head over heels in love with my first fiancé. But I felt things for you that I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling. And that terrified me. Are we too late, Chakotay?”

“Too late?”

“Is it too late for us to have what we want?“

He gave her a familiar smile as he spoke familiar words. “We can’t sacrifice the present for the future, or live in fear for what it holds. We’ll do our best and try to make a life for ourselves. And," He kissed her hair. "Be happy.”

She nodded her agreement even as her body started to ache for all the things they’d never have - all the things she dreamed of.  

“What?” His gentle voice broke her reverie.

“Nothing," She went to turn around when he stopped her.

"Tell me."  

"Well," She let out a tentative exhalation.  "It’s just that...“

“What?” He smiled and shook his head against the softness of the pillow. "Tell me. I don't want us to hold things from each other. Not anymore.  Besides,” He laughed. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I’ve always been able to read you like a book.”

She met his chocolate gaze and tried to attempt a passable glare, but failed miserably as her face melted into a smile. “Yes, you have.”

“What were you going to say?”

She breathed deeply. “I was going to say that being here, in this time, we’ll never be able to have children, or a have a house of our own - _a life_ of our own."  

His heart nearly stopped at her beautiful admission; all the precious things that he had fantasised about for all these years, she wanted them just as much.  Kathryn looked shy in the wake of her admission,  thinking she had said too much.  Perhaps, she thought, they were thing he didn't want to hear.  "Oh, Chakotay I' _mmmph_ -"  

He was overcome with the need to finally kiss her, to taste her.  He had promised himself not to rush her – not that six and a half years of courtship wasn’t enough, but they were emotionally chaffed after having to destroy the shuttle and cut themselves off from the only existence they’d ever known to settle for a life living off the good graces and the charity of others.  But he couldn’t help it and so he kissed her, leaving hesitation at the door when she opened her mouth under his with a groan.  His tongue ran the length of hers as his lips moved sensuously over hers before he ran out of breath. 

Her words were quickly silenced when his lips met hers and stole her wasted breath.  For a moment, she was frozen, barely cognisant of the abrupt movement until she felt his tongue on her lips, begging for entrance.  And with a groan brought forth from the back of her throat, she parted her lips for him as her hands came up to cradle his face against hers.  This was how she'd always thought it would be - mesmerising, and rich.  He tasted like toothpaste, she laughed and broke the kiss before pulling him back to her, seemingly unable to get enough.  

"What the _hell_ took you so long?"  She smiled as she pulled away.  

Chakotay laughed and rolled his eyes.  "Kathryn Janeway," His fingers ran through her short auburn hair.  "You are the definition of  _infuriating."_


	29. Chapter 29

She smiled, running her hands through his hair not unlike she did some morning ago.  But this time, her touch was welcome.  Not that it hadn't been before, but this time it was done without vacillation or nervousness. "You're only  _just_  figuring that out?"  

"You're going to drive me crazy," He closed his eyes and lay back on his side of the bed.  "Aren't you?"  

"Mmm," Kathryn rolled over onto her side and propped herself up to look down at him, moving her coifed eyebrows suggestively.  "You know, we could..."  

" _Absolutely crazy_ ," Chakotay shook her head in quiet amusement as he brought her down to lay beside him.  "I think we've done enough for today."  

"You taste like toothpaste," She looked up at him again.  

"So do you.  But I'm guessing at any other time, I'd get coffee breath."  

" _Hey_!" She slapped his chest before dissolving into laughter.  "You're probably right."  

He opened his eyes in innocence.  "I didn't say I didn't _like_ your coffee breath..." 

"You've smelled it plenty of times, no doubt," She chuckled.  

" _Too many_ ," He teased back before becoming serious.  "Not _nearly_  enough."  

"Did you ever think we'd get here?"  

"To twenty fourteen?"  

"No," She slapped his chest lightly.  " _Here."_

"Ohh," He jostled her.  "You in my bed."

 _"Our_ bed," She corrected him.  

"Even more unbelievable."

"Mmm.  Did you?"  

"No," He told her. "I didn't.  But I'd hoped."  

"Sometimes," She remembered. "I would go to bed thinking about you - what you were doing on the other side of the wall when I heard you walking around. I used to imagine your nighttime routine when I listened to those footsteps."  

"I did the same," He kissed her hair and held her close, willing away the possibility that he was dreaming.  "You _did_  spend a lot of time in the bathroom."

That made her grin. "Women spend a lot of time in the bathroom, Chakotay.  It's part of our charm."

"Not that you're short on charm."

She wrapped her arms around his middle and lay her head on his chest as she yawned, drowsy all of a sudden. "Now who's being cheeky?"  

"Go to sleep, Kathryn," His arms came up to wrap around her shoulders, sealing their bodies at the hip.  "We'll talk in the morning." 

"Okay," She whispered woozily before sleep swiftly claimed her. "Goodnight, Chakotay."  

* * *

 

 Again, the bright morning sun that streamed through the window prodded at her close eyelids and woke her from somnolence.  They had turned in the night, reverting to their old pattern. In his usual way, his leg was foisted over her hip, holding her against him and there was that familiar sensation of something poking her lower back.   _Something for later,_ she thought as the day beckoned her.  

Leaving the bedroom, she shut the door quietly and made her way into the small kitchenette to make coffee.  After all these weeks she still wasn't used to the machine, and she could never anticipate how much should go in. Her measurements were always erratic and she would end up putting in too much. So, a week ago, he'd left her a quarter cup measure in the tub.   _This much_ , he'd said after nearly spitting out the hot contents of his cup,  _or you're going to kill me!_ And though she hadn't minded the dark coffee sludge, her companion was decidedly unimpressed.

She loved the sound the machine made when it started up.  It was like a prelude to something great as it rumbled in great heaves and sputters before the dark amber liquid began to fill the pot below.  

She pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her body as she looked outside at the camp.  The snow was nearly melted, but Jan had assured them it would be back later in the week.  Kathryn remembered when she was a girl how long the winter months would last and how by the end she was begging the skies for spring and summer.  Now, though, there was none of that dread.  She was happy just to see the land in any way that it chose to keep itself.  It was familiar to her, but not at the same time.  Most times, the smells, the people, and the air, were like a memory from a dream.  A very well-loved dream.  

Sitting against the pane, she watched the coffee machine as it began to produce her ambrosia and fill the room with its well-loved scent.  In the stillness, she thought of the night before - the words they had spoken and the promises they made. And with that knowledge in hand, she felt lighter.  Hopeful.  

Kathryn had never been one to be patient - and with coffee that lack of virtue showed all the more as she hurried over to the quarter filled pot and poured what little was there into her cup.  The first cup was always the best, she thought.  But perhaps that had little to do with the coffee and more to do with the night's abstinence.  

Rummaging in the fridge for something to eat, she barely registered the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing or its inhabitant coming towards her until she shut the door and found him standing in front of her.  "Well, good morning," She smirked, holding up a loaf of bread and some butter.  "I was just going to make-"  She gave him an odd look as he took each of the items out her hands slowly and one by one.  "Some breakfast."  

"Mm," He looked at her with nearly black eyes, backing her into the fridge.  

Her back hit the appliance with a gentle thud.  "Are you, uh, hungry?"  

His hands settled on her waist and she couldn't suppress the shuddered anticipation that ran through her as her own hands fisted in the material of his own thick sweater.  " _Chakotay?"_

And with little preamble, he kissed her.   _And it was_ , she sighed and parted her lips with little askance, _just like before_ : something only comparable to white magic as their lips, tongues, and teeth meshed and mingled hungrily. With welcomed bulk, his body pressed her slighter one up against the refrigerator as he fought to get as close as he could to her.  

"Coffee."  He mumbled against her lips as he caught his breath.  

"Mm," She laughed. " _Morning breath."_  

He chuckled and his forehead met hers.  "Kathryn?"  

"Yes, Chakotay."  

"Now?"  He asked.  

"Yes," She took his hand in her smaller one and led him back into their bedroom.  "Now."  


	30. Chapter 30

“So,” Jan eyed Kathryn over her coffee cup. “How are things?”

“Hmm?” Kathryn quickly looked up from the computer, distractedly not answering.

There was something different about her this morning, Jan thought: the way she held herself, the lightness in her demeanour. “ _Kathryn_.”

“What?” The younger woman looked up. “Did you ask me something?”

“What's different about you today. I can't put my finger on it.” Her grin stayed plastered, a knowing twinkle in her eye instantly surfaced.

“Nothing,” Kathryn looked down at herself, gauging if there was any outward change in her appearance.  

Jan shook her head. “Unh uh, young lady. _Spill_.”

Kathryn just smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jan.”

And then it dawned; she didn’t know how she didn’t place it earlier. “Oh my god. _You and Chakotay_! _Finally._  Well, how was it?”

“ _Jan_!” Kathryn laughed out loud; a blush crept on her neck, but stayed hidden behind her turtleneck. “I don’t think _universe_ heard you!”

"Oh _Kathryn_ ," Jan rolled her eyes.  "I think the universe _deserves_ to hear it." 

The younger woman's palm met her forehead as she laughed before she sobered.  "It was..."  What was the word.  "It was wonderful."   

“I don't doubt it,”  She laughed and resumed her coffee.  "Well good for you.  I can see it was about time."  

“Yes.” Was all she could manage without embarrassing herself. "It was.  But anyway," She swiftly changed the subject.  

"Anyway," Jan picked upthe older woman began. “I have a favour to ask you.“

"Of course," Kathryn closed the laptop.  "Anything, Jan."   

“Well, for Gregg and I, this is the first time that we’ve had so much help before. It’s freed up our schedule, given us more time with our patients and students. And we’re so appreciative… but we were wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking on a little bit more.”

“We'd be happy to," She nodded eagerly. "Chakotay and I haven’t felt like we’ve been doing enough to justify-

“ _Kathryn,"_ She smiled. “We are _so thankful_ for your help. So it’s you doing us the favour, all right? Stop feeling so guilty!”

“Okay,” Kathryn bowed her head, again grateful for such kindness. “So, what can we do to help?”

“I know that you and Chakotay don’t know how long you’re staying, but we were hoping that you would be here into the summer months. Anyhow, it’s a lot of work for the both of us, and we were wondering if you might take on more responsibilities. At the end of last year, several of our contracts with local farmers fell through. A few of the farms in the area pulled out of contract, but there are a few new farms opening up – small, sustainable groups that we want to support. Not only that, but we also need to update some of the buildings. So we were thinking about using money from this years deposits and we want to renovate-“

Kathryn felt as though she needed to be taking all of this down.  

“Anyhow, that’s just a few things of the things. Will you be okay to do that? I’ll give you all the paperwork, and everything else should be on the computer under different file names.” She sighed. “I know it’s a lot, but it would be a huge help.”

“It’s not a problem, Jan.” Kathryn smiled to cover her trepidation.  

“There’s another thing,” Jan began.

“Mmm?”

“I know you said that you lost everything in the crash, but we’re going to need you to start doing errands for the camp. It might be a good idea for the two of you to renew your license. Anyhow, you must be dying to get off the property anyway!”

Kathryn’s stomach sank; they had no _documents_ , no _identification_. They _weren’t_ from this time. “Of course,” She mumbled, straining to keep a calm façade while anxiety brewed in her gut and drew a small tremble.  

"Great," Jan grinned as she put her empty mug in the sink and checked her wristwatch, scowling when she noticed the readout.  "Now where is my wayward husband?"

 “ _No, Chakotay,_ ” Gregg responded jovially as he and Chakotay entered the house, the echo of his voice answering his wife's question. “ _I really like that idea. We could get the wood from the forests around us; we own all fifty acres, anyways. And then we could build the addition on the rec room. It’s been too small for years!”_

Coming into the room, Chakotay met her eyes warmly, before he noticed the hidden look of hesitation, nervousness. “Good morning, Jan," He said, moving his gaze from her.  

"Good morning," She reached up and kissed his cheek.  "Gregg are you read to go?" 

"Yep," Her husband meandered out into the foyer.  "S _hould I keep my boots on, or change into my work shoes?"_  

"Boots," Jan called back.  “All right, you two.  Be good, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. It’s best if we get to the DMV early; then we can avoid the lines!”

“Sorry?” Chakotay looked back at Jan.

“I was just telling Kathryn-"

" _Jan, honey,"_ Gregg called.  " _We're going to be late_!"  _  
_

"Have Kathryn fill you in," She nodded at him.  "We'll see you later!"

 

"What was Jan talking about?" He tugged on her hand as they walked back to the cabin. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost when I walked into the kitchen."  

Kathryn looked up at him with that same look.  "She wants us to get our licenses so that we can drive."

"We don't have the paperwork for that," He frowned.  "They're going to find out-"

"I know," She bristled.  "I know." 

"Hey," He stopped them and turned her to him.  "We'll work something out." 

" _How?"_ She gave him an exasperated look.  

He gave her a sigh and looked around nervously before meeting her eyes again. "I don't know."


	31. Chapter 31

"So you two," Gregg looked back from the front seat of the truck. "How does it feel to be off the camp for a change?"

Chakotay kept his demeanour calm, nonchalant. "It's good to see some more of Indiana." Was all he replied dully.

Jan glanced at him in the rearview mirror as she applied her lip balm. "From what you  _can see_  of it at least. I don't think this snow will ever melt!"

"You say that  _every yea_ r, honey," Gregg smiled as he patted her knee. "But then you're wishing it was winter again during those hot weeks of June!"

She grinned in response. "Don't forget to take the short cut, smart alec; I don't want to be waiting in traffic all morning. We still have to get to work!"

"I know, I know!" He exasperated activating the turn signal; "I didn't forget! Turning now…"

Jan turned back to them. "You'll learn your way around Arcadia soon. The town is lovely; a few shops, mostly specialties and collectables. But its fun to walk around, and we have one of the oldest theatres in Indiana! On weekends they show classic films for a dollar," She patted her husband's leg. "It's been a while since we did that, Greggory."

"Yes dear," The older man smiled at his wife. "Here we are," He pointed ahead.

"Don't look so petrified you two!," Jan took amusement with the expression on Kathryn's face as they stepped down from the truck's rise. "It's just the DMV not the  _Guillotine_!"

Gregg laughed. "On the other hand…"

Battered posters hung on the wall, telling people of the dangers of 'drinking and driving', and about something called D.A.R.E. She had no idea what that was. Dingy coloured papers littered the uncomfortable looking chairs and an array of generally disgruntled people sat, waiting expectantly and looking at a digitised red and black readout displaying a different number every couple of moments.

"Well, you two, get a number," Jan pointed to the ticket generator on the desk labeled 'information'. "Gregg and I will find the license replacement forms."

Kathryn tried not to look like such a fish out of water as she walked up to the small device and pulled the paper out just as another one took its place.

"What number is it?" Chakotay asked.

"Forty nine," She stared at the readout on the wall; they were only at thirty.

"Looks like we have a good wait ahead of us," He took her hand again and led her over to the chairs where Jan and Gregg sat, looking at the paper forms in front of them.

"Okay you two," Jan handed them the paper and pens. "Just fill out what you can. You can put your current address as our house."

They did quick math; if Kathryn was forty two, she would have been born in nineteen seventy, and Chakotay in nineteen sixty eight. He put his place of birth in Arizona, not that it mattered; they would find out soon enough that they were both absolute frauds.

"You two are up," Jan pointed at the readout on the sign. "Here's twenty; if I'm not mistaken it's ten dollars each."

She took the money shakily with a wary grin as they took their forms and walked up to the counter.

The woman behind the counter regarded them drearily as she held her hand out for the forms. "Hello, how may I help you today?"

"We're, uh, here to replace a lost license," Chakotay mustered the best voice he could.

"All right," She scanned the forms and started entering data into the computer.

Kathryn's heart was pounding so fast it was nearly audible as she ran over the mess that would invariable ensue in the next few moments.

"What's your name, hon?" The woman scrutinised the paper, having trouble reading her name. "Is that a 'K'?"

Kathryn cleared her throat, "Kathryn Janeway."

"Alright, and that's Kathryn with a K and a Y?" She read with one hand on the noisy keyboard.

"Yes." She nodded.

"Uhhhh," The woman looked down her glasses at the large computer screen. "Okay, here you are. Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway, Fourteen Fifty Two Marmont Street, Bloomington Indiana, is that right?"

Kathryn's blood went cold in her veins and the colour instantaneously drained from her face; that was exactly right. "Yes," She croaked, looking up at Chakotay, seeing a similar look of disbelief in his eyes.

"Alright. That's ten dollars for a replacement fee." The sound of a machine next to the woman started up with a sickening jolt.

Shakily she handed up the bill Jan had given her. "And you, sir? Are you two together?"

"Yes," His tone was calm, belying his incredulity.

"Married?"

"No."

"Are you an Indiana resident, sir?"

"No."

"So you'll be changing your state license registration?"

"Yes." He nodded, going along with whatever she had said.

"That's fine, I'll just need you to tick this box right here." An X marked the correct box and she handed the form back to him. "Your name is so unique," She half smiled. "It came up here on the computer right away. Chakotay Kole, is it?"

His mouth went dry. Kole? How could he be in their system as well? None of this made any sense. "Sir?"

"Uh, yes," Kathryn's pinch on his leg drew an immediate response. "That's me."

She indicated to the paper again."And is this your permanent Indiana address?"

"Yes," Stunned, all he could do was respond dumbly to command.

"Okay. It's going to be a twenty dollar charge since you're changing your state registration. And just to let you know, it might take around four to ten business days for the request to go through. So," She got up and disappeared behind a partition. "Here they are. You're lucky," She winked. "We get to print them here now. You used to have to wait three weeks to get them in the mail!" She looked at them suspiciously while they just stared at her for a long moment. "All right?"

"Uh, yes," Kathryn cleared her throat. "Thank you."

"Well that was easy enough," Jan and Gregg came up to meet them. "I'm glad we weren't here  _all day_! Sometimes it's so touch and go with the DMV."

"Oh," Kathryn nodded her head as if she had some inkling. "I know." She didn't.

"Well we'll take you two home," Gregg started, zipping his coat as they reentered the cold morning air. "We've got to get to work, but Jan put all the contracts in the cabin that you'll need to look at. Also, now that you have your licenses, you're free to use the camp truck. It's parked behind the mess hall and the keys are inside."


	32. Chapter 32

“We’ll see the two of you later on!” Jan called as they barreled out of the truck. “And don’t be shy about using the camp truck; we understand if you need to get out and about!”

“Thank you, Jan,” Kathryn took Chakotay’s hand as she stepped down from the elevation of the car. “We’ll, uh, see you later.”

They stood, hands clasped, as they watched the car disappear down the long driveway. “Chakotay," She turned to him once they'd left.  "W _hat the hell is going on_?” 

“I don’t know."  He took her hand again and began walking through the slushy snow. “For one, my last name - _Kole_? I don’t understand any of it, but,” He breathed a sigh. “To say that I’m relieved would be an understatement.”

“I know, but we’re not _from here_ ; we weren’t born in this time! There was no way that they could have possibly have had that information; and you weren’t born in _Arizona_. We made that up!”

“Do you think there’s something more sinister at work here?”

“No. I don’t know…” She stopped, pulling him back to her. “Wouldn't we know by now if this was _holodeck projection_ , or alien illusion.  We’ve experienced enough of those to be at least somewhat discriminatory. The crash was real, that I know. But I keep thinking that maybe this is some sort of payback by Braxton…”

“But you said he was apprehended?” He took a turn away from the cabin and began walking down towards the lake.

“Yes, but what I realized while I was on board the Relativity was that temporal mechanics is more complex than we can even imagine; they were playing with history – with time and with events. From what I saw they were able to go back into the past, or jump into the future and stop time, inserting variations, adding their own subtle manipulations. Having access to that technology, there’s no limit to what Braxton could have done before he was brought to justice.”

They walked in silence around the quiet tranquility of the lake. It was vast, but you could still see all the way across it. The water was high this morning, coming all the way up the pebbly shore.  There were more cabins on the other side of the water, their structures still obscured by the downy snow. The camp was truly impressive, he thought as he surveyed it; a true credit to Jan and Gregg’s hard work all these years. 

“I’m not ashamed to admit that I don’t know what to do with any of this," He told her.  "And when you think about it, it doesn’t change all that much. Voyager still hasn’t found us. We’re still stuck here.”

She sidled closed to him, putting her arms around his waist as they kept their gazes on the serene scene in front of them. “I know, but that still doesn’t mean that I don’t have questions. My address, for one – that was my address back home,” She took the small card out of her coat pocket and looked at it. “And I’ve never taken this photo, but all the other details are right."

He dug out his own and shared it with her.  “ _Chakotay Kole_ ,” She read, giggling at the horrible photograph of him. “Nice picture.”

"I hadn't even looked at it," He grimaced.  “It _is_ horrible! Let me see yours.” They traded cards and he scrutinized the tiny image on hers. “As usual, Kathryn, you look beautiful. I, on the other hand,” He laughed. “Look fat and slightly inebriated.”

“Don’t be so _vain_ , Chakotay!" Her alto was ripe with amusement. "Besides, nobody’s ever going to see it.”

Kathryn fell silent again, still smiling as her arms returned to his waist. “I usually have a solution for most things, but I’m not ashamed to admit that right now I’m completely stumped.”

"I know," He nodded, kissing her hair. “We'll figure it out.”

"Is that your new moto?"  She looked up and kissed the underside of his jaw.  

"Seems like it," He grinned as they continued back towards the cabin.    

“It really is beautiful here," Kathryn looked to the semi-frozen lake. "I don’t remember it looking like this when we came to visit Aunt Martha.”

“ _Aunt Martha_ ,” He repeated.  "What was she like?"  

Kathryn laughed at the memories of the woman that came to mind. “She was my father’s sister, and even though they grew up in the same house, I’ve never known two people so different. Dad was always serious and focused. Everything he did in life, he did with purpose. But Aunt Martha, on the other hand," She paused for histrionics.  "Was a free spirit. Tom sometimes reminded me of her with his quirky fascination with the past. She used all these old phrases that had died out centuries ago.  And she _completely_  she eschewed replicators and twenty fourth century technology-"

"My mother would have loved her," Chakotay chuckled as she continued.  

"Mmmm, two peas in a pod.  She always said she wanted to live authentically.”

“What else?” Chakotay whispered, squeezing her hand. 

“Well let me see. Aunt Martha had the _wildest_  frizzy brown hair that she never, ever tamed but just let stand in this big,” She motioned with her free hand. “Halo around her head.  When Phoebe and I used to spend the night at her house she’d always brush our hair before we went to bed and put in in braids so it wouldn’t tangle. And she’d go on and on about how much she envied our hair, how smooth it was, how _red_ it was! I couldn’t for the life of my imagine why! I couldn’t _stand_ my red hair!" 

He smiled, looking down at her big grin. “I’ve always loved you hair, Kathryn. It’s beautiful.”

She shook her head, stuck in the memory. “Oh you wouldn’t have liked it _then_.   Phoebe’s hair, though, was absolutely stunning.” Her speech took on a different note at the memory.  “People usually never believed that we were related. She was so delicate and beautiful with her porcelain features and soft long ringlets. Me, on the other hand..."

"That's not true," He told her.  "I've seen photos of you when you were young Kathryn." 

"You haven't seen them of her," She laughingly corrected him as they walked into the cabin.  "If you had, you'd know what was talking about."

"Well it doesn't matter," Chakotay closed the door and helped her out of her coat.  "I still think _you're breathtaking_."  

She blushed and met his eyes.  "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Just the redheaded ones."

"Mmm," She teased.  "I'll have to be on the look out for those."

"Well," He amended.  "You see... there's this _one_ redhead that I have my eye on."

"Oh?" The smile on her face threatened to tear it in two.  "Anyone I know?" 

"Mmm," He shook his head, unable to help the deep dimples that sank in.  "No, I don't think so..."

"Well," With difficulty, she tore from his gaze as she stepped out of her wet boots.  "I'm thinking Breakfast right about now."  

"Is that a suggestion," He clarified as he walked the three steps into the kitchen.  "Or an order?"  

"Well, I can't give you orders anymore," Kathryn glinted.  "But I certainly wouldn't mind a plate of those pancakes."  

"Are you going to help me?" He prodded her.  

"I think we both know the answer to that question," She laughed, sitting down at the table.  "But I'll make the coffee."  

"I still can't get over our licenses!" His voice was muffled into the fridge as he got out the milk and eggs.  

"I know," Kathryn brushed past him in the small space to get the coffee.  "It doesn't make any sense.  Uh oh-"

"What?" He looked back at her.

"We're nearly out of coffee."  

"Oh," Chakotay made a grave face.  "That is serious."  

She laughed heartily at the face he made while scooping the last of the grounds out of the tub.  "Stop it, you.  If you don't get on those pancakes, my stomach is going to start eating _itself_."  

"What ever happened to _never-eats-Janeway_?"  

"Was that my nickname?"  

He spoke up over the clangour of the pans.  "Just mine for you." 

"Well," She indicated to her hips.  "Not much of a problem anymore, if you haven't noticed."  

"And good thing," Chakotay said seriously.  "I like you just the way you are." 

"Well _good thing,_ " She copied him as she pressed the button for the machine.  "Because you're stuck with me."  


	33. Chapter 33

“Where did Jan say the car was parked again?” Kathryn took hold of his gloved hand as they left the house and locked the door behind them.

“Gregg said it was parked behind the mess hall.”

“I don’t think I’ve been there yet," She said, looking around and thinking of what little she had seen since being here.  "Jan and Gregg will have to give us the  _grand tour_ once the snow melts." 

"I don't want the snow to melt," He thought aloud.  "It makes everything look beautiful." 

“You say that _now,_ ” She wagged her finger at him.  “But you just wait.  When April comes and its still hanging around you won't like it so much anymore." 

The day was grey, the sun hiding behind a dense cloud cover which made it seem all the colder. “Over there,” He pointed to a long building not far from their cabin. "I think that's the messhall." 

"It's big," She remarked. "Not like Voyager's."  

"Which actually wasn't a messhall at all," He corrected her. 

"That's right," She chuckled. "Not until Neelix hijacked it.  Do you know how to drive a ground car, Chakotay?”

“Mmm,” He nodded his head. “I remember driving something like it on Dorvan, but I don’t think I’ve ever driven something like Jan and Gregg’s before. Do you know how to drive?”

“Yes. I remember learning when I was sixteen. Aunt Martha had a ground car."

“Well,” They rounded the back of the building when he sighed, “It’s the same as Jan and Gregg’s.”

“Big.” She she turned her head this way and that. 

“Mmm, well, let’s give it a go. You want to try first?”

 “Scared, Commander?”

“Not at all, Captain,” He laughed. “But we know my luck with shuttles. And after all, manner’s dictate _ladies first._ ”

She brushed past him and opened the door. “You’re a _bold_ one, Commander. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only my mother,” He winked at her as he rounded the passenger's seat.  

“Damn, it’s freezing in here!” She blew on her hands as she rummaged for the keys. “Were did Gregg say they kept the keys?”

“He didn’t,” Chakotay looked around. “I’m assuming they would be hidden somewhere…”

“Aha!” She cried as she pulled the items in questions from the sun visor above her seat.

He raised his brow in question. “How did you…?”

“I think I remember seeing something like it in one of Tom’s holomovies.  Now, if I remember..."  She looked around for the port, finding it with an expression of jubilee.  "Key in the ignition, and _turn_!”

And with that, the vehicle came rumbling to life.  “ _Ah!_ ” He exclaimed putting his hand over the offending vents which had began spitting out a frigid stream. “How do we turn these things off?”

“I don’t know!” She shivered as she examined the controls on the panel.

“Oh,” He pressed a button with a wave pattern that seemed to halt the outflow. “I think this turn it off."

"Excellent work, Commander," She smiled at him.

"Now who's being bold," He glinted.  "We’re going to have to figure all of this out.”

“Mmm, _but_  the next battle is figuring out how to drive this monstrosity without killing ourselves or anyone else! _Now," S_ he scrutinized the two pedals under her feet. “If I remember correctly, one is the brake and one the gas, but... which one is which?”

“The thicker one is the brake and the other the gas." He looked over at her and pointed at the rearview mirror. “Remember that you’re supposed to adjust your mirrors.”

“I'd nearly almost forgot about that. Right, so angle this broad one here so that I can see out the back and these two side ones to that I can see both sides of the car.” She fiddled with the controls for a moment, setting her exact specifications before turning back to him with a grin. “Well this is fun."  

"We haven't even started yet," He teased.  

She smiled, amused at their easy flowing banter. "Hey," She prodded his arm.  "Baby steps." 

“Now we have to back out of here," He examined the gears between them. "So put the car in reverse.”

She tried to pull on the shift but nothing moved. “It’s stuck.”

He pointed down to her feet. “You have to apply to brake to change them.”

She looked skeptical as her foot sank onto the fatter of the two pedals and she tried the gear again. The car jolted to life in a reverse motion as she angled her body to see out the back. “Am I doing this right, you think?”

He kept one eye on the wheel and one out the back.   "Just keep the wheel straight until we’ve cleared that wall and then turn the car around towards the path.” 

“Okay," She breathed relief when she had gotten onto the path.  

"Now, change the gear again so that we’re in D.” 

“Remind me again why you’re not the one driving?”

He just smiled. “Just put it in D, and swing the car around.”

“Goodness how does Jan do this?” She exclaimed as she turned the wheel. “It’s so damn heavy!”

“You’re doing just fine, Kathryn.”

“We’re going at the pace of a snail’s crawl, Chakotay,” She rolled her eyes. “Any slower and we wouldn’t be moving.”

The car slowly turned round to face the road that wound through the camp. “Keep going straight for now. The path is long enough, you’ll get some good practice before we reach the road.”

“Do you think we should _leave_?” Her tone was incredulous. 

“I don’t think many people will be on the road. And it’ll be good practice,” He touched her thigh in a promise.  "We won’t get lost.”

“ _Okay_ ,” She sighed, applying a hair's more pressure to the gas.  

“Are you okay?” 

“Fine.” She clipped, leant forward with a death's grip on the wheel.  

“Your knuckles don’t look it.”

She let out a breath and slowed the car again. “This is completely different than I remember it. Aunt Martha’s car was tiny, and that was over _twenty five_ years ago.”

“You’re doing just fine, Kathryn.” He encouraged.  "Just keep going."  

They reached the house and began down the long driveway. She let out a sigh as they reached the end and looked upon the main road. “Which way should we go?”

His hand gently squeezed her thigh. “You pick.”

“Left, She chose arbitrarily. "I guess." 

He pointed at the small bar jutting out behind the wheel. “Put your blinker on to go left.” 

The road had a different consistency than the pebbly unevenness of the driveway or the camp’s roads. It was smoother, easier. “How fast do I go?”

“Not sure,” He looked around. “The sign there says forty five. So just apply enough gas to get up and then try and stay there with light pressure.”

As they continued, she felt her confidence built more and more so much that she began to enjoy the experience, much like she had when she was a teenager.  “Am I drifting over to your side?”

“Only a little," He peered out the window. "But not too bad.  It’s beautiful here,” He breathed, looking out the window. “But let’s head back soon."  

"Just a little longer," She told him.  "I'm having a little too much fun with this. When we get back, have to look at those contracts that Jan gave us.”

"Contracts," He repeated.  "I don't know anything about contracts."  

"Me neither," She shook her head and looked for a place to turn around.  "But we'll figure it out." 

"That's my line, remember?" 

"So, I borrowed it,"  She found a small lot and turned the car.  

“We'll take a look.  It's cant be that bad." 

"You're right," She puffed out her chest and headed back on the road.  "If I remember correctly, we've traversed the Delta Quadrant.  Contracts can't be impossible."  

"That's the spirit," He laughed.  "But somehow this seems more daunting." 

"More daunting that the Borg?"  She asked in an air of light suspicion.  

"Maybe," He glinted.  "We'll have to see."  


	34. Chapter 34

"You were right," She grumbled, rubbing her eyes as she looked away from the stack of papers.  "It's  _worse_ than the Borg!"  

"It's awful," He agreed with her.  "I don't think I've read anything more boring.  Seven's astrometrics reports read like fiction compared to this." 

She closed her eyes and nodded.  "What do you say we take a break and have some dinner?"  

He yawned as he got up and stretched.  "Excellent idea, Captain.  I think Jan dropped off some ingredients for pasta with a homemade sauce."   

"Sounds good," She copied his yawn while sauntering into the kitchen with her used mugs.  

They worked around each other like they'd grown accustomed to.  "What do you think they're doing right now?"  She asked him.  

Chakotay stopped for a moment, putting down the carton of pasta to look at her. "Well," He thought on it.  "Tom's probably on the bridge talking about the latest party they had down in sciences." 

"Mmm," She grew mock serious. "I'll bet he's glad the captain isn't there to hear about what went on." 

"And the first officer," He added.  "Avoid all those personnel problems..."  

"No doubt," She laughed out loud while messily decanting the homemade sauce into the pan.  "Have you noticed that Jan's started making everything vegetarian?"  

"I thought she and Gregg were just on one of their health kicks." He harkened back two weeks ago to the juicer debacle.  

"Maybe that too," She smiled.  "But I think she just cares about you."

"They've been good to us," He smiled at her.  "Too good."  

"Mmm," She returned the look.  "But I really am glad she's given up on the juicer."  

Her honesty drew dimpled laughter.  "That was terrible.  Remember the broccoli radish mix?"  

"Ugh," She shivered at the memory.  "Or the beet ginger?"  

"Let's not talk about it," He shook his head and made a face.  "I'm already losing my appetite."

"Chakotay?"  She asked after an interlude.  

"Hmm?"  

"Do you remember, a few weeks ago when we got that communique from Starfleet Command?"  

"From Hayes," He clarified as he took a piece of pasta out of the boiling pot and blew on it.  "I remember you were worried about it."

"Do you think that if they get home, Starfleet will put the Maquis in prison?"  

He'd thought on that question more times than he would ever let on.  And ever since they started their communication with Starfleet Headquarters, that little nagging question had become a monster.  "When we spoke a few weeks ago, it seemed like it didn't bother you," She pressed.  "Like you thought they wouldn't."

"I remember," He said, turning off the stove before he went to drain the pasta.  "And then I was being a little dishonest."

"I knew you were," She half smiled at him.  "I didn't believe you when you tried to brush it off."  

"I suppose," He let the warm steam coming out of the sink soothe him for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.  "I just didn't want to think about it.  As much as I wanted to get home," His eyes met hers. "I wanted to stay in the Delta Quadrant."  

"Because you were afraid of what might happen once we reached Earth."

"Yes."

"I hope they get home," Kathryn said tentatively.  "I hope that Tuvok can get them back and that when they get there, they'll be welcome."

"They will," Chakotay half promised her before he looked back to the stove and found the other part of their dinner nearly burning.  "Uh, Kathryn?" He nodded his head to the pot. 

"Oh!" She jumped.  "Damnit, Chakotay!"

"You really do burn _everything_." He couldn't contain the laugh when he read her look of consternation as she took the pot off the burner.  

"Chock it up to one of my charms," She smelled the pan's contents.  "Mm," She sighed and met dimpled grin.  "It looks like we might just be having butter with that pasta."   

" _Kathryn._ "  

She smiled innocently and leaned up to kiss his cheek in contrition.  "I'll make it up to you later." 


	35. Chapter 35

“ _Chakotay_?” Kathryn's voice was soft as it broke through his memory.  He felt her hands on his chest slide up to his hair and gentle move his gaze to hers.  "You disappeared on me."  

"Sorry," He closed his eyes and drew her body closer than it already was.  "I was just thinking."  

"Tell me," She leaned up over him and drew the blanket up to hide her nakedness from the chill of the room.  "Tell me what you were thinking about." 

"My family," He breathed as his hands came up to tangle in her mussed curls.  "I like your hair like this." 

" _Oh_?" She laughed. "Maybe that's because it looks like this because of _you,"_ Her finger poked his naked chest before he tangled his fingers in her hair in earnest, drawing her down to him as he claimed her lips with his own.  

"You were telling me something," She reminded him as she pulled away.  

"Before you distracted me," He glinted amusedly before his serious mien took back its place.  "I was thinking about my family." 

"Oh?" She goaded.  "What about them?"

"Nothing that I haven't thought of before," He shrugged.  "I just regret how I left things with them.  How I'll never have a chance to make it right again."  

"You were a different person back then, Chakotay," She kissed his cheek and lay her head on his chest.

"I was," He acknowledged.  "I hurt the people that I loved, and I never apologised for it." 

"Sometimes that happens," She breathed.  "But I have a feeling they understood."

His fingers trailed in lazy circles on her back. "They did.  And sometimes I think that makes it worse."

"It's easier to be angry with someone when they're angry at you.  It's not easy when the other person is patient and understanding."

"It sounds like you know what I'm talking about." 

"I do," She took a deep breath and let it out.  "The night before I left, my mother, Phoebe, and I had dinner and we got into a big fight.  No surprise, really."

"What did you fight about?"

"Mark.  Phoebe _hated_ Mark." 

"Why?" He chuckled.  "Was he so bad?"

"No," Kathryn looked up at him.  "Mark was... _benign_.  Phoebe just thought he was boring."  

"And you had an argument about _that_?"  He asked skeptically. 

"Mm," Now Kathryn could laugh at the memory.  But she remembered that night where she was the definition of annoyed.  "She didn't think I should marry him." 

"Well, that we know for sure." 

She slapped his chest in her hoopla before she looked up at him. "Have you always been this smug?" 

"Mmm," He raised his eyebrows at her.  "You were telling me about the argument." 

"It was over dinner," Kathryn propped herself up on her arm and looked at him, this time unconcerned with her nakedness. "Phoebe was talking about her engagement to her husband Andrew.  She'd gotten all excited and tried to share it with me but I was," She looked away and went on a new tangent as she tried to lighten their conversation. "Anyway, we argued and that was the last time I talked to her." 

"I'm sorry, Kathryn," He kissed her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.  "But next time..." His lips continued his foray across her clavicles.  "That we have a serious conversation," He paused to look her frankly in the eye.  "I think you should be wearing clothes." 

"Why?" She gave him a look.  "Are my breasts distracting you." 

"As a matter of fact," He pushed her onto her back and picked up where he left off. " _They are_."  


	36. Chapter 36

“So was it true?”

“Was what true?” He glanced over at her, seeing the smirk she was trying hide.

“Harry and Jenny Delaney.  Who we’ve been _talking about_ for the last couple of minutes. Were the rumours true?” She enunciated the last part slowly.  

"Oh," He nodded. “Do I turn right or left on Menlo?”

She looked down at the printed off directions in her lap. “Right. So?”

“So what?”

“Have you heard a word that I’ve said?”

“ _Yes_ , Kathryn,” He glanced to the side, at the mirrors , overly cautious as he drove into early evening traffic. “I’m just worried about these roads. They’re slippery after the warmer temperatures yesterday and the freezing winds we got last night. I don’t want us to get into an accident, _or_ be late for our meeting.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re certainly in a _mood_.” 

He’d been nervous about this meeting since this morning. This was the first time they were venturing more than ten miles from the camp, going to meet with one of the new farms in the area to see if they might be interested in forming a contract with the camp during the summer months. “What’s next after Menlo?”

“Continue for four miles," She read off the page. "And then left on Orbach.” 

Running through a snowy field, the road was flat and desolate. Off to the sides, dead yellow sprigs peeked out from the icy snow in a telltale pattern.  Wheat, she recognised immediately; hardly uncommon in Indiana. But it was the first time that she’d seen such an expanse as it went on for miles and miles with the occasional unoccupied road running through it.

In her own time, fields this large were uncommon. Though by all accounts Indiana would have still been considered rural, this in comparison was barren.  Then, large fields with long stretches of fallow land would have been considered a waste of space. Around twenty two fifty, the Earth’s population had exploded. Advances in medical science up to that point had extended human life spans into the hundreds, allowing women to have children well into their fifties without incident. As a consequence of the booming population, more land had been converted into space for houses, apartment complexes, and sleek high rises.  But funnily enough, _this_ was exactly how Kathryn had dreamed of Indiana.

Suddenly, she felt the car slow down and pull off the side of the road.  Knowing that they’d not reached their destination, she quickly angled her body back to him with a questing look on her face. “Chakotay, what...?"  

Sitting back in the driver's seat, he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry," Brown eyes said to the Blue.“I’m just nervous.”

Her expression softened as she took his hand over the space between them.  "It's all right." 

"It's not," He said sternly.  "So I'm sorry." 

"Okay," She quirked a famous half-grin as she reached over to kiss his cheek. "Let's go or we'll be late." 

 

“Is that it?” Kathryn pointed ahead to a small inconspicuous side road delineated by a hand painted sign almost completely covered by snow. Red letters peaked out from the fluffy white reading ‘ _J Acres_ ’.

The gravelly driveway reminded her of Jan and Gregg’s as a house came into view in the distance. The architecture was much the same as many of the other farmhouses in the area – four rectangular sides with a wrap around porch.  But they drew closer, something caught Kathryn’s eye and made her smile. Hanging from the rafters on the porch were a myriad of different designs – some were recognisably wind chimes made from an array of different every day items: forks, spoons, and tin cups. And others were completely unique with their artistry evident in their jagged metal designs as they swayed and sounded in the gusty afternoon wind.  They reminded Kathryn of Phoebe and something she would dream up and create. 

The summer that Phoebe turned sixteen, her parents had given her the unused garage off the side of their home to use as her workshop. She spent hours there, sometimes going in at dawn and not coming out until the wee hours of the following morning. And there she made the most wonderful creations out of almost anything – clay, metal, paint and canvas.  She had a knack for making the ordinary extraordinary. And these pieces before her were no different.

Amid her study, the front door of the home flung open and a young couple bounded down the steps preceded a large golden retriever running out in front of them and barking at the newcomers. “That must be Ann and Andrew,” He said as he brought the car to a halt.

“Hi, there!"  Ann was about Kathryn’s height, though slightly shorter, with long brown hair that hung straight down her back, and striking green eyes. "You must be Kathryn and Chakotay.  Welcome to our home!” 

“Yes,” Kathryn held out her hand, a smile mirroring Ann’s lighting her features. “It’s so good to finally meet you.” Andrew extended his own hand to clasp Kathryn’s as Chakotay rounded the car to meet them.

“Well _hello_ ,”  Kathryn looked to the side and what she saw made her laugh; Chakotay was eye level with the couple’s dog, eagerly petting it while the gentle animal licked his face. 

“Oh, _Holden_! Get over here!” 

The dog looked away from Chakotay, wagging its tail and panting happily and oblivious to decorum stating that it indeed wasn’t appropriate to _lick_ strangers’ faces.

“Sorry about that,” Andrew extended his hand. “We haven’t trained her yet. She’s still young…”

“Don’t apologise,” He took Andrew’s hand firmly. "It's nice to finally meet the two of you." 

“Neat tattoo,” The younger man scrutinized his face. “Never seen one there before.”

“Thank you,” Chakotay leaned down and reflexively reached his hand out to Ann. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Chakotay.  Lovely name," She smiled.  

“An old one too.” He glinted.  "And thank you." 

“You’ll have to tell us all about it," Andrew's hand met his back as they walked back towards the house. "How about we go inside and talk shop? I just put on a pot of coffee. Do you guys like coffee? I can always make tea, or…”

The couple grinned and shared and brief knowing glance. “If it’s possible, I think that Kathryn’s blood has been replaced by coffee.”

“He’s right. Please,” She agreed. “Lead the way.”

 

“I noticed your artwork on the porch,” Kathryn looked around the quirky kitchen, noticing touches similarly quirky to those on the porch. “Are you the artist?”

Andrew smiled and looked to his wife. “No,” He answered. “ _Ann’s_ the artist.”

“Oh?” Kathryn sensed a story.

Coffee and cake in hand, Ann turned to indulge her unspoken request.  “Andrew and I moved here from Chicago about two years ago. We were both lawyers in a firm," She emphasised. "Lived in a high rise, worked sixteen hour days - climbed the ladder, that sort of thing.  But one day… I think it was a Saturday?”

“Uh huh,” Andrew swallowed his coffee. “Saturday, January eleventh, two thousand and eleven. We woke up before the sun rose, like we always did before we went to the gym and I remember we asked each other what the hell we were doing with our lives.”

“I never saw Andrew," Ann told them. "We worked on different _schedules_ , had different _routines_. We were basically no more than glorified roommates!”

“So we quit.” He shrugged. “And used the money we’d made from our hefty salaries to buy this farm.”

Amusement and disbelief warred for dominance in Chakotay’s voice. “To be farmers?” 

“Uh hunh,” Ann nodded her head. “Our friends thought we were crazy, but we’re having a blast. Our farm isn’t big, and we still work part-time to make extra cash. But that’s why, uh, we were so _excited_ when we got your email.”

“Oh?” Kathryn took another sip of coffee.

“Right now,” Ann looked at her pointedly. “The farm has just been a hobby – something we’ve both wanted to do since college. We never imagined that we’d be able to make anything more of it than a farm stand, or a stall at the regional farmer’s market.”

“So I suppose you read over the information that we gave you?” Chakotay asked, bending down by the large dog at his feet to retrieve the manila folder from his bag.

“Extensively,” Andrew answered. “Do you two own the camp?“

“No," Kathryn corrected. "We've just started working for Jan and Gregg, the owners." 

Andrew smiled and nodded his head. “So from what I read and understand, you’re looking for healthy, organic foods from sustainable farms in the area. I dug a little deeper and four out that you held contracts with Healthy Acres and Greenlawn farms.”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“We know of all the farms in the area,” Ann answered. “Healthy Acres and Greenlawn were both recently bought out by a corporate company called Roseno. And now they’ve converted most of their crop to corn and soy and no longer sell to private buyers.”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded. "That's right."  

"The reason we ask," Ann explained. "Is because they're a lot bigger than we are and might be providing a bigger crop that we'll be able to provide.  How many suppliers do you usually have for the camp?”

“Anyone for a refill?” Andrew interrupted as he got up.  

“Mmm,” Kathryn handed him her empty cup, while the other two declined silently still cradling their warm cups. "Please." 

“Cream? Sugar?” He asked with his back to them as he rummaged in the large refrigerator.

“No, no,” Kathryn’s voice was adamant. “Black.”

“She drinks it black," Ann grinned, mock shivering and scrunched his nose. "I don't know how you do it." 

“Neither do I,” Chakotay added.

“Well, I don’t know how you _poison_ it with cream and sugar. The only reason I ever had cream and sugar in my rea-“ She caught herself. “Office, was for _you._ ”

“I know,” He whispered.

Ann and Andrew shared a look borne of curiosity about the two people sharing their kitchen.  “So you two met at work?” Ann queried nosily.  

“Yes,” Kathryn looked away and tried to think of ways to change the subject. "Something like that." 

“Oh?” Andrew handed Kathryn a fresh cup of coffee. “At the camp?”

“No,” Chakotay cleared his voice and changed the subject. “We usually have about two or three farms that supply the camp. The camp was only getting a small crop from Greenlawns.  Maybe twenty five pounds of vegetables per week, and from Healthy Acres even less. I think they did it more as a service to the camp itself rather than to make a profit. But we also have a contract with Blue Fields, and they said that they’d continue this year as well.”

“Blue Fields,” Andrew sat back. “Over on Westlawn? Yeah. George is a good guy. He helped give us our start. Is he your main provider at this point?”

“It looks like it,” Chakotay answered. “But it’s not going to be enough. Registered so far, we have about two hundred campers for the summer, which brings it to twenty kids per week for ten weeks.”

“When does camp start?” Ann asked, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes.

“Early June and it runs to mid September,” Kathryn replied.

“Oh?” Andrew sipped his coffee. "We should have a good crop by then.  But this is only our third year doing this." 

"Last year and the year before were fine," Ann remembered. "We should be able to meet your needs for those months if you give us your projections ahead of time." 

“What crops are you looking for?”

“Whatever’s in season," Kathryn answered.  "We're not picky."

“Well, like I said; we’re small,” He gestured with his hand. “Fort eight acres and most of that is vegetables and a little soy. And we also have several green houses that are pretty productive in the summer months. We had a few glitches with bugs last season, but we solved that around August just our tiny crop of cabbage was coming in.”

“We don’t know how much Blue Fields is going to be able to contribute this year-“ Chakotay told him. 

"Last I heard," Ann remembered. “They were talking about signing on with Roseno like all the other farms in the area. It's a shame,” She shook her head. “The family farm is becoming something of a dying art and being replaced by government bureaucracy. Larger companies don’t want any competition so they buy out even the smallest farms, put them on hefty contracts," She emphasised. "And _bar them_ from participating in their local communities!”

"I didn't know that," Kathryn told her.  "That's terrible." 

"Oh well," Andrew genuflected listlessly.  "The way of the world sometimes." 

"We're being such downers!" Ann laughed and looked at their two guests.  "Would you two like to stay for dinner?"  

"Oh," Kathryn looked to the man sitting next to her. "Well we-"

“Oh come on!” Ann persuaded  "I was just going to heat dinner in the oven. _Please_ stay, we haven’t had people over in the longest time!”

“She’s right,” Andrew coaxed. “It’s just been us and the dog all winter.”

“Well,” Chakotay winked at Kathryn. "We'd love to.  Thank you." 

“Yes,” She nodded her head in agreement. “We’d love to.”

“Oh excellent!” Ann got up from the table and headed to the fridge. “Honey, would you put the oven on three fifty?”

"We're trying a new recipe," Andrew told them.  "With winter squash.  We've all but become vegetarian with all the new crops we grow!" 

"Works for me," Ann pattered around the room getting plates out. "After we left the firm and I didn't have to fit myself into pencil skirts I started going a little wild" 

"My wife is delusional," Andrew sat down with their guests.  "She put on five pounds and somehow she's fat." 

"It was _more_ than five pounds," She glared at him as their guests looked on in something akin to hilarity.  "It was seven.  Kathryn?" 

"Hmm?" She crossed one leg over the other as Ann came to sit back down. 

"You'll have to tell me your secret." 

"My  _secret_?" Kathryn leaned forward, looking for clarification.  

"How you stay so slim," Ann told her. 

For a moment she was a fish out of water. " _Me?"_

"Yes," She gestured.  "You've got a fantastic figure!" No one had ever made such a comment to her, or asked her for advice in this area.  

"Well," She laughed, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I-" 

"Anyway," Ann barrelled on.  "Basically, we're turning into vegetarians." 

"Well you're in good company then," Kathryn glanced to her right. "Chakotay's a vegetarian."  

"You are?" Andrew sat back and looked at his new friend.  "Interesting. Health reasons or..." 

"Just a personal decision," Chakotay said simply. 

"Well we'll have to steal some recipes off of you," Ann got up as the timer went off. "I want to apologise," She bent down to take the dish out of the oven.  "For this not being a proper meal.  My mother would be horrified." 

"Oh?" Kathryn's stomach rumbled at the sight of the lightly browned, fragrant dish she laid in front of them.  

"My mother always told us to have a carb, a vegetable, and a protein," She quirked her lips.  "All we have is the vegetable." 

"Well that's just fine with us," Chakotay gave her his plate and she served a generous portion. "We've been living off of pancakes and pasta." 

"All the more reason for me to hate you," Ann mock glared at Kathryn.  

"It's just cheap," Kathryn promised, laughing at her new friend's antics.  "This look delicious, Ann. Thank you." 

"Oh don't thank me," She laughed. "Andrew's the chef around here.  I'm still learning." 

"Something we have in common," Kathryn blew on a bite of her dinner.  "I can't cook at all." 

"But she's learning," Chakotay told them.  "Even if she still burns leftovers." 

"Same!" Ann laughed.  "It's _terrible_." 

"Well," Kathryn tasted a bite of the casserole.  "Andrew this is divine." 

"Mm," Chakotay nodded, taking a second bite.  "Delicious." 

"Thank you." The young man gloated.  "I'll give you the recipe, Chakotay, and we can make sure these women don't _starve_!" 

 

"Ann is just like Phoebe," Kathryn gave a wistful smile as they drove away later that evening.  "Bubbly and fun."

"They were nice," He remarked, checking both ways before he turned out onto the desolate road.  "It's colder than usual tonight." 

"It is," She noticed her own breath still billow out in front of her even in spite of the heat pouring into the truck.  

"And do you know something else?" He tried to paint his voice with innocence.

"No," She went along. "What?"

"I think I know the perfect solution to warming up on these cold winter nights."

"Oh you do," She angled her body towards him.  "Do you?"  

"Mmm," He said very seriously.  "I do."

"Well," Her voice lowered one octave.  "When we get back to the cabin, you'll just have to _show_ me."  

 


	37. Chapter 37

“More coffee?” Jan held up the pot in Kathryn’s direction.   

 “Is that even a question?”

 “Sorry," Jan feigned contrition.  "I forgot I was speaking with Miss Dark Roast twenty fourteen.”

 Kathryn held up her hand with a laugh.  “The year’s _far_ from over, Jan.  I might find a roast that I like better.  Although,” She took a long sip, savouring the odour and the fine taste of the complex brew.  “I have to admit that I am partial to the Sumatran.  This might be my favourite so far…”

 Jan rolled her eyes predictably and added healthy drop of cream to her own cup. “Does Chakotay know you make love to your coffee cup like that?”

 “For _years_ ,” She grinned.  “I think at this point he’s just accepted the fact that he’s the third wheel.”

 “So," Jan changed the subject.  "All joking aside, what did you two think of CJ Acres?” 

 “The owners, husband and wife team,” Kathryn explained.  “Are absolutely lovely.  From what we saw and from what they told us the other day, they’re very excited about working with the camp.  Of course, they’re new, but from what Chakotay and I took away they seem like a great group to work with.  And with the output that they recorded the year before, they should be a good asset if we keep our contract with Blue Fields.”

 “Good,” Jan nodded her head and stifled the yawn that was trying to make its way through.  “So in a couple of weeks, get everything signed with them and then we cross our fingers that they get a good yield this summer.  If not, we’re going to have to dip into camp reserves and buy from a supplier – which I don’t like doing.”

 “Okay,” Kathryn added to her mental to-do list.  “And what about the welcome packs?”

 “Oh!” Jan nodded again, trying to muffle a yawn.  “Good woman! The information for the printers is on the computer-“

 “I already found the file – I’ll go ahead and order two hundred and fifty copies. That’ll give us a little leeway to make last any last additions in case some of the campers pull out.”

 The older woman nodded again, solemnly this time.  “It does happen. Some kids don’t make it to camp.  But,” She forced a smile.  “It’s something for them to look forward to.” 

 “Is there anything else?” 

 “No.  Not for right now.  Oh,” Jan looked at her.  “There is one thing; you two need to open an account at the local branch so that Gregg and I can start depositing money directly into your account.”  She rummaged down on her knees in her purse, cursing under her breath to find her intended target in the midst of the coupon, old note, gum and candy wrapper rubbish.  “Found it!”  Victorious, she produced a small rectangular piece of paper.  “Your first paycheque to deposit into your account!”

 Kathryn reached out almost tentatively to take the small page.  Somehow it felt strange. In her in own time, money was nearly a passé concept.  Of course, the acquisition of wealth was still an aim for some, but not many.  No longer were people driven by the greed or avarice, or the drive to become rich.  Of course, the Ferengi were an exception.  But most were driven by the thirst for knowledge or the hunger for exploration.  In Starfleet, she’d earned credits for the occasional splurge.  But her basic needs had been provided for – food, clothing, transport.  It was only know that she realised the necessity of money.  

 _“Kathryn?”_   Jan’s voice woke her from her lull. “It’s not going to bite you, dear.  Here, take it. You’ve _earned_ it!”  She stuffed the folded sheet into Kathryn’s hand.  “Now, Gregg and I have a joint account and a business account at Chase Bank on Donnellan Avenue right by Target.  I think it’s the main branch for this area.  We’ll put you two on it once you’ve your own opened.  Alright?” 

 “Of course, Jan," Kathryn covered.  "Thank you.” 

 “Well now that that's out of the way,” An old look twinkled in Jan’s eyes.  “Have you and Chakotay anything planned for Valentines Day?” 

 “Uh,” she shook her head, trying to remember what she did last year.  “No. Not that I know of." 

 “ _Oh_?”

 "Well," She shrugged uncomfortable.  “It’s just… we didn’t- it’s never been…”

“Goodness gracious, Kathryn, r _elax_! I just thought that it would be something the two of you would enjoy.”  She downed the last of her lukewarm coffee and straightened her back.  “Well I’m off to work.  Have any of the medical students submitted their applications?” 

 “We’ve gotten a few through the website – about forty or so.  Should I wait to review them with you?” 

 “No, no.  You can go ahead.  I’ve got to get Gregg. We have to leave for work in fifteen minutes. _Gregg_!” She yelled outside the kitchen porch door.  _“Greggory, where are you?! We’ve got to get to the hospital for rounds in twenty minutes!”_

Kathryn shook her head in beguilement as she came up behind Jan in time to see Chakotay and Gregg bounding out of the barn opposite the house. “That man,” Jan turned around.  “And t _hose dimples_ , Kathryn. God Almighty, he’s one helluva catch.” 

“Mmmm,” She nodded, keeping eye contact with him as he came up to the house, smiling a silly, big grin.  “That _he_ is.”  


	38. Chapter 38

“What did Jan have to say?”

 "Nothing much," Kathryn took his hand as they walked back to the cabin together.  “What were you and Gregg doing in the barn?”

“Planning projects to renovate the barn, maybe put it back into use for something other than a storage shed for tools.  And," He took a breath of frigid air. "Dreaming about the addition to the rec centre and the messhall.” 

 “Jan,” Kathryn slipped, but was caught in strong arms before her bottom met with the cold, hard ice underfoot.  "Thanks," She grinned up at him as they continued their cautious amble before she reached into her pocket to produce the small cheque.  “Our first paycheque.” 

 He stopped.  “Paycheque?” 

“Mmmhmm,” she nodded her head and handed him the slip.  “We have to go into town and open a bank account to deposit it.  She wants to put us on the camp’s business account as well. Chakotay?”

 He was caught in his own thought as he looked at the paper.  “It’s real, isn’t it?” 

 An elegant eyebrow quirked at the ambiguous question, “Of course it’s real.  What are you talking about?”

 “This,” He gestured between them and all around them.  “Money, cheques, contracts, bills, licenses… This is our life.” 

“Yes,” She met his eyes in resignation. “This is our life.” 

 He turned, tugging at her hand again and continuing to walk.  “So we'll go and do that today.  Is there anything else?”

 “Well,” she took a deep breath and started going over the mental checklist she’d made for herself.  “After the bank, we need to buy groceries because the only thing we have in the kitchen is hamburger helper, which I am _not_ eating any more of.  And if we have time we need to get a head start looking at the applications that the medical students submitted for counsellor positions…” 

 "Well," He opened the door to the cabin for her a they stepped into the warm room.  "Sounds like another full day."

* * *

 

“Jan asked me what we were doing to _Valentines Day_ this year – oh!" She stopped and pointed to her right. "Take this turn.  I remember Jan taking it when we went into town a few weeks ago. Something about a short cut.”

“This turn?" He flashed his indicator as she nodded. " So what did she say about Valentines Day?” 

"Just if we were doing anything for it," She told him absently while on the look out for their next turn.  “I’d have forgotten about it altogether if she hadn’t mentioned it.”

 “When is it again?" Turned again onto a busy road.   "Do you remember where we go next?”

 “Right after the stop sign," She indicated.  "So get over. This Friday, the fourteenth.” 

 “Is that it over there?”  He pointed to a long four-line street dotted on both sides with shopping centres. 

 “Uh huh,” She looked out and found the large shopping centre she and Jan had gone to before locating the Chase sign right next to it.  “And there’s the bank.” 

 “Bank first?”  

 “Might as well.”

 “So what did you tell her?” He glanced wickedly at her.   

 “Nothing _salacious_!” She guffawed hitting his arm.  “I didn’t say anything.  We don’t usually _do anything_.”

 “Which bank is it again?” 

 “Chase," She showed him.  "The one with the big sign." 

 “We’ve never been in the position to _do anything,_ Kathryn.”  He grumbled.  She recoiled, the guilt of their separation over the years hitting her squarely in the gut.  He didn’t have to look over at her to know his callous comment had hurt.  “I’m sorry, Kathryn.” He whispered as he pulled the car into the near-empty lot at the bank and turned off the ignition.  “That was out of line.  I’m sorry.” 

She sat back in her chair, trying and failing to hide how much the reality had stung.  “No, it’s fine.  You’re right.” 

“ _Kathryn”_ He coaxed, taking her hand.  "It was a careless comment and I’m sorry.  We don’t need to go over this again.  I understand why you kept your distance and I respect that.  Let’s just forget I said it.” 

 “But it’s true,” Her eyes were clear as her gaze met his. "And you're still angry with me-"

 “Hey,” He smiled placing two gentle fingers over her lips.  “I’m not angry.  I shouldn't have said it.”

"But you said it."

"I know," He nodded.  "It's just that I-"

“Wish we hadn’t wasted so much time," She filled in forlornly. "I know.”

“Come on,” He kissed her forehead and gave her hand a squeeze before exiting the truck.   “The sooner we finish here the sooner we can go home and…” A wicked smirk finished the rest of his thought. 

 Kathryn laughed heartily at that, releasing his hand and rolling her eyes as she got out of the car. “Do you think of _anything_ else?” 

 " _Me_?" He laughed and pulled her into his side.  "What about  _you?"_

"Well you see," She explained pedagogically.  "I have an excuse." 

"And what's that?" 

"I have this very tall, dark and handsome man who I live with and I simply can't keep my hands off of him." 

"Oh," He nodded in understanding.  "I see your dilemma." 

"And did I also mention..." She lowered her voice as they entered the bank before she leaned up and whispered something in his ear.  

" _Kathryn!"_


	39. Chapter 39

“Wow.”  

“I told you," Still unused to the hullabaloo even the second time, she stared in awe with him.  " _Everything_ in one place.” 

"I have..." He motioned nebulously with his hands as he stared wide-eyed around the department store.  “Never seen so much pink in my life.” 

“Or quite so many hearts!” She laughed, noisily taking the rickety cart. 

His hand found gentle purchase on her side, indicating to give him the shopping trolley. “Can you imagine if we gave _Neelix_ access to this many kitschy decorations – _sans_ replicator rations?” 

“I don’t even want to think about it; he’d likely have decorated the hull _and_ my ready room!” 

"Well," He looked down at her with expectant eyes.  “Where to, Captain?”  

“Well," Hands on her hips she stopped in the middle of the aisle trying to remember where things were. "Just the basics. Let’s start with food.”

So many people, he thought, and so many things all in one place.  His line of vision was overcome with seeing so much. “Chakotay?” 

She’d stopped and was looking at him.  “What?”

“This way.” She pointed down to another aisle filled with more colourful products.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much food that I would _actually eat_  since before we were in the Delta Quadrant!” 

His wide eyes made her smile. "That's what I thought when I first came here with Jan.  These?” She held up a bag of randomly assorted apples for his approval. "What else do you want for fruit?”

“Bananas," He walked over to the display. "But choose the green ones."  

“What do you want to cook for dinner this week?” As she looked over at him, she began to notice other people ever so slightly.  The way they looked at him, stared at the lines over his brow.  And it started to make her angry the way some their faces contorted in obvious disapproval as they walked quickly by.  

He leaned over the carriage, oblivious she thought to what was going on around them.  “Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

“Do you want to survive?” She deadpanned, bringing a lighter mood than the one she felt.  “I think we’ve proven the only thing I can make with some degree of success is coffee and cereal.  So the question is, Chakotay, what do _you_ want to cook for dinner this week?”   

For a moment, everything stopped around him and all he could see was her - the sly grin on her face, now plain and beautifully scrubbed of makeup.  And in a moment he was struck that she didn't belong here.  Not like this.  Not with him. _“Well?”_

"You’re beautiful,” He smiled almost sadly.  “And, I was thinking that we'd have vegetable soup.” 

"Thank you," Kathryn closed her eyes.  "And vegetable soup sounds good.  We can make extra and freeze half of it." 

"That might save us some money." 

"Hopefully," She shrugged, looking at the items already in their cart.  

"Come on," He tugged on her arm as they walked the rest of the produce section, feeling an odd sense of eerie displacement not for the first time today.  "Let's get what we need and go home."  


	40. Chapter 40

The rest of their foray in the shopping centre had been less about enjoyment and more to do with haste.  From one second to the next, she noticed the change in his affect.  It had started at the bank, she remembered, but had only exacerbated on their second errand.

“People are staring," He broke the silence the first time since they'd gotten into the car with one another.  

Kathryn didn’t have to think through the ambiguity. _“I know_ ,"  She whispered.     

In their own time, Chakotay’s tattoo had never been given a second glance. It was an indelible part of him; the ebenezer of an oath he had made to the people and the mission that he’d made his life about. And she couldn’t imagine him without it so much that she used to dream he’d been born with sweeping curved lines over his eye.

“But, it's a part of who you are. It doesn’t matter what people think.”

He snorted wryly at the saccharine comment. “You know that's not true.  They all stare and try not to mention it, but it colours their perception of me.  Like today at the bank! And it keeps happening where people don't trust me, don't want my help," The car came to a stop in front of the cabin.  "Normal people, Kathryn, don’t have a huge tattoo on their face. It just _isn’t done_ here.”

She sighed thinking of their debacle at the bank. The young man assisting them had taken one look at Chakotay and had immediately become skeptical and belligerent, making what appeared to be an easy, quick process something long and painful. And of course, there were side glares and whispers whenever they went out.  Especially when they were in a town as rural, even isolated, as this. Jan and Gregg were the exception.  Broad minded, and trusting to a fault, they took interest in the marking and cast no judgement. But they weren’t the custom.

“ _I know_ , Chakotay,” She whispered plaintively, placing a warm hand gently on his thigh as they sat in a forlorn silence. “ _I know_.”

Not knowing what else to say, or how to console him, she let him be for the rest of the evening as he disappeared into their bedroom.  It wasn't fair, she anguished, that things should be this way.

Since he'd disappeared behind the door, she had heard nothing and had assumed he'd gone to bed.  But how she found him when she quietly entered was very different from the reality she'd imagined.  " _Chakotay_?" He was sitting quietly with the contents of a medkit spilt out on the floor. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

In his hand he held a once familiar dermal regenerator.  He turned it over in his palm, feeling the weight of it as he looked up at her.  "I was thinking that it's time to move on," He spoke his words slowly.  "That maybe-

Her chest palpably ached – her heart breaking in two.“ _Oh, Chakotay,_ ” Kathryn kneeled in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please don’t. You don't need-“

“Stop.” He pushed her away so he could look at her. “A long time ago I made a promise. I kept this tattoo for fifteen years now and to the best of my ability, I’ve live up to the ideal that it represents.  I kept the memory of my father and my family and I’ve tried to become the son that my father would be proud of. Those things are what matter, not ink on my forehead.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks at his fervent words and her arms wrapped themselves around him once more. “Your father _would_ be proud of you,” She kissed his cheek. "And so am I."

He turned his face into her hair as the silkiness of it absorbed his own tears and he nodded. "I know."

They stayed like that for a while, holding one another in the peace and silence before he pushed her away again. “Will you?” He asked as he handed her the dermal regenerator.  

She looked at it in his hand, for a while reluctant to take it.  “Are you-“

“Please, Kathryn.” He smiled weakly as he placed the anachronous device in her hand.

It felt strange to hold it again. To her, what used to be a commonplace tool now felt foreign with its heavy weight and the red light that blinked from it's headpiece.  "Chakotay, this-"

“ _Please_.” He kissed her cheek and sat back expectantly.

And so with a deep and mournful breath, she quickly manipulated the settings and scanned it over the sweeping cerulean lines on his temple, watching without preamble how the loved strokes and contours quickly vanished as though they had never been.  


	41. Chapter 41

This morning he had woken early, before the woman sleeping beside him.  It was quite a feat, he thought, as it was usually Kathryn who rose well before him.  But his sleep the night before had been fitful and incomplete.  Admittedly, on any other morning he would have curled back into the space she'd left and dozed for another hour.  Today, though, he'd had an itch to get moving and do something more than fixate on the thoughts in his own head.  

Gregg had offered him the use of the barn and the tools in it. Most of the items he was somewhat familiar with including the large electric saw and the rusty tools in the cupboard. He had always found that woodworking, being able to make something useful and tangible with his hands, deeply satisfying.  But more than that, it usually took his mind off things. This morning, however, even the craft was failing to quell his fevered introspection.  

_“Are you sure, Commander?” Namimbay stood behind his desk, flanked on either side by impressive bay windows that looked out over the Academy._

_The day had been overcast, raining and thundering intermittently. Any other time,_ _Chakotay would have been excited about the rain. Dependably, it signalled the end of the mild winter and the beginning of a new season. And that soon, on the afternoons that he left his classes in the not too distant future, he would walk out onto the pristine campus to breathe in the piquant delights of spring, the herald to a temperate summer. Today, though, he felt none of that prospective enthusiasm._

_Not a week ago today, one of the Maquis, Sveta, had been waiting outside the door after his ten thirty lecture. And before she had said the words, he knew._

_They were all dead and Dorvan, as he knew it, was gone._

_Sveta came to him five months before, asking him to join the rebel group. He’d immediately said no.  Absolutely not. Leaving Starfleet was unacceptable. He'd worked too hard to get where he was and he was happy. Leaving his comfortable life to be a rogue guerilla combatant was the absolute last thing he had any interest in doing._

_But now, not four days later, he'd handed in his resignation and taken the mark of his forefathers as he swore to take revenge on the grey-skins who had taken all the people he loved._

_All the people who he’d never said goodbye to._

_All the people he’d never apologised to._

_All the people to whom he hadn't said ‘I love you’ nearly enough._

But that part of his life was over. He was no longer _Chakotay the Maquis Warrior_ out to avenge the deaths of his people. And so, he thought, it was fitting the mark should go too - that he should move on.  

" _Hey, Chakotay!_ " He heard his name called over the din of the electric saw.  " _Hey!"_

“Good morning, Gregg!” His voice billowed into the cold morning as the appliance settled down.  

“There you are, Chakotay,” Gregg rounded his side and handed him a hot cup of coffee. “Thought you could use this. How long have you been out here?”

“Mmm,” Gratefully, he took a sip of the hot liquid, letting it run down and scald his throat. “Thank you.  I don't know.  Maybe an hour or two.”

Gregg looked him up and down, studying him for an awkward moment before he noticed the change. _Whoah_ , Chakotay,” He moved a little closer. “What happened to your tattoo, or am I just getting old?”

He lied, reciting the rehearsed story that he’d practiced this morning before he'd gotten out of bed. “Before we came here, it was the tenth anniversary of my father’s death. And, uh, it’s a tradition in my culture to take the mark for ninety days to pay tribute to those who have passed. It’s a special ink that fades over time.”

“Hunh,” Gregg nodded his head. “That’s interesting.   _Outlandish._ But interesting. It looked so real, though."  

“For a while it felt real.”

The older gentleman nodded his head and cracked a smile. “Jan's going to flip when she sees you. I think she was getting sweet on that tattoo.”

“So was Kathryn.”

“How are things otherwise?"  

"Just fine," The two men sat on opposite stools as Chakotay leaned forward into his next thought. "Actually, there is something I  wanted to talk to you about if you have a minute. It’s something I've been wanting to do for Kathryn. ”

“Sure,” Gregg beamed. “I have a few minutes before the boss calls and we have to get to work.”

“Have you heard of the _Millennium Gate?_ ”

 

“Were you all right to open the account?” 

“Fine,” Kathryn cradled her barely-touched cup of coffee. “And we deposited the cheque.  Thank you, Jan. But we insist on paying you back for everything like we talked about a few weeks ago. And we want to pay for utilities.” 

Predictably, Jan rolled her eyes.  “ _Kathryn –_ “ 

“ _Jan,_ ” Kathryn’s full glare came out in glory. 

“ _Kath-ryn_.” It turned out that Jan could be just as inflexible as Kathryn. “We took out for the utilities already. It wasn’t that much. You earned that money, Kathryn. So, keep it. And when you and Chakotay get back on your feet, we’ll talk again. Okay?”

“Okay” She bowed her head in acquiescence, knowing she had already lost the battle. “Thank you.”

Jan looked at the woman in front of her; something was out of place this morning - missing, she thought. And though Kathryn usually hid herself well there was still an subtlety of forlorn and wistfulness about her.  Even her shoulders, usually held high, were slumped in defeat and dark circles coloured her under eyes while as an ashen tone laced her usually rosy cheeks. “Kathryn,” Jan moved closer and put two bony, well-worn and lived-in hands on her slight shoulders. “What’s _wrong_? Is everything all right with you and Chakotay?”

“Yes, Jan," She nodded. "I’m fine. Chakotay is fine. We're just fine.”

“There was a lot of _fine_ in those sentences.  If you want to talk, I’m always here. Okay?” Jan gave a grin as she looked at her watch. “But just not right now because we have to proctor an in-house exam in thirty minutes and I’m still in my PJs."  She hurried to the porch door and hollered out the back. " _Gregg we have to leave_!”

“But,"  She stopped in front of Kathryn.  "Hey, I'm going to tell you, Kathryn, get rid of this guilt you're carrying around. You're not living off of charity here.  Gregg and I wouldn't be able to do this without the two of you.   _All right_?"  

It wasn’t any of that entirely, but Jan’s accustomed kindness warmed her. “Thank you, Jan.”

"I think I hear the men," She said as the porch door creaked open and Chakotay’s rich baritone wafted in on the cool stream of air that that followed him. “ _Gregg,"_  Jan waved her finger at him. _"You’re down to five minutes_!" 

“ _Okay, Honey!_ ” He called back. “ _I’m already dressed so I’m ready when you are!”_

“Chakotay!” Jan’s eyes nearly jumped from their sockets. “ _Your tattoo!_ Where did it go?!”

“Um,” He gave a passable grin and pulled at his earlobe.  “It, uh, wasn’t permanent.”

“What do you mean?" She pressed. "You’ve had it since we met you!”

“Indian tradition, Honey,” Gregg came back into the kitchen pointing at his wrist to his own watch. “I’ll tell you on the way to work - get dressed. We have _to go_!”

“Oh you’re right. Well,” She ran up to Chakotay and kissed his cheek before running into the bedroom and coming out not two minutes later in her work clothes. “You and Kathryn take care and we’ll talk to you later. And Kathryn," She stopped with one foot out the door.  " _Thank you."_


	42. Chapter 42

He had spent most of his morning up until lunch in the barn working like he had before as he thought over what Gregg had said and turned over the plans he had in his mind, getting giddy when he anticipated the reaction the surprise might bring.  

Not knowing how many hours had passed, he was goaded out of the wooden enclave by the hunger rumbling his stomach.  He smiled walking down the small incline back to the cabin as he wondered what Kathryn was doing.  He imagined he'd find her sitting at the table, cup of coffee in her hand as she buried herself in her work.  

" _Kathryn_!" He called, running up the steps.  " _I thought I'd make some lunch for us. What do you-"_  The door swung open, but there was no one home.  "Kathryn?" He called, looking around the tiny abode.  "Are you home?"  

He closed the door behind him and walked into the kitchen.  Where would she have gone without telling him?  He remembered seeing the truck on his way in so he knew she hadn't left the property, but where would have have gone?  He walked two steps more when he found a piece paper and pen on the counter telling him that she had gone for a walk and would be back later.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, he thought, that she should go for a walk.  It was just that... Well they'd always gone together.  Puttering around the kitchenette as he fixed his lunch, he kept one eye out the window and waited for her return.  But as he finished his food and one hour turned into two, and then three, and later four, he started to get worried.  

  _Was she lost? Had she fallen?  Did she need help?_

But soon, just like his mind was a jigsaw puzzle, he began to put the pieces together.  Over the past week, in the midst of his own bliss, he hadn't seen her subtle warning signs.  And so, armed with that enlightenment, he jumped up from the chair to go after her.  But as soon as he reached the door, he thought again and restlessly turned back.  Kathryn would come to him in her own time, pushing her would only prod her dismay.  

And she deserved that, he thought - time to _be dismayed_ , time to _grieve_ for what she had lost, and also time to be alone.  For the greater part of six years she had essentially been _all_ alone.  Alone to herself; alone to her thoughts; alone to her space. And that had all been taken away and not of her own volition.  So, like that, his own guilt started again.

In retrospect, he should have realised something was off this morning.  Like him, she had tossed and turned the night before.  

" _Different." Chakotay called out the bathroom door.  "I look like I did when I taught at the Academy."_

_"Yes," She called from the bedroom._

_"What do you think?"  He walked back out to find her in their bed, covers up to her neck and turned on her side towards the window._

_She turned to him and tried for a smile.  "Different."_

_And with that, he climbed into bed and curled up behind her.  She didn't turn back to him, though, like she had been doing since the week before when she would lay with her head on his chest with her leg twined around his.  "Good night, Kathryn," He'd said before kissing her burnished hair._

This morning he hadn't spoken to her since they'd been at Jan and Gregg's.  And only briefly then as they had shared a quick conversation before he went back out to the barn while she had returned to the cabin to answer email queries.  

The sky was nearly black when he looked out the window and there was still no sign of her. After hours of waiting and worrying, his anxiety had reached a fever pitch and once again he was out of his chair and barrelling towards the door until he heard footsteps on the stair case.  

"Kathryn?" He flung open the door to find her wet and shivering.  

"Hi," She swept past him into the room as she slid off her soaked boots and let her coat fall to the floor.  "I'm just going to get a shower." 

"Kathryn-" His hand caught her arm as she walked past before she yanked it away.

"I'll be right out." Was her curt reply. 

"Okay," He said, letting her go, but burning to go after her.  

The shower started with the croak before he heard the steady current of water.  Again he waited for her, desperate to talk with her.  Even just to hold her.  But, like the walk she'd taken ,the shower went on and on.  And so he did what he told himself he wouldn't: he went after her.  

Hot steam hit his face as soon as the door opened.  She hadn't seemed to noticed the influx of cold air though, as she made no movement behind the curtain.  Slowly, and without declaring himself, he pulled back the floral partition that separated them.  And what he found broke his heart.  

She was sidled against the tile wall, letting the scalding water pour down on her before she jumped at his presence.  "Chakotay," She looked at him.  "What-" 

" _Oh, Kathryn,"_ He looked her up and down.  Skin pink from the heat, hair slicked messily on her shoulders, and tears coming down her cheeks.  "I-" 

"I'll be right out, Chakotay," Her gravelly voice said as she went to close the curtain again before he caught it.  "Chakotay, I-" 

"Please talk to me, Kathryn," He stood obstinately and spoke over the stream.  "I want to help." 

"It's nothing." Slowly she turned the dial and the current dissipated into a trickle before it died.  "I'm fine."  

"You're not, _fine,_ " He corrected as he wrapped her in one of the towels that had been hanging on the door.  " _Please, talk to me."_

His body blocking her escape, she was trapped.  More though, she knew she could never hide from him.  "I know," He whispered into the silence.  "That you're not good at relying on people and that you like to deal with things yourself.  But it's not working anymore."  She kept her eyes from him, staring dumbly at his feet, saying nothing.  "Let me in, Kathryn.  We've been through too much to pull away from each other."  

She gave him a small nod and he wrapped his arms around her tiny form.  She, in turn, tried to bury herself in him. "You're _all_ I have, Kathryn. And I _can't lose_ you."  

"I know," Her low alto was muffled into his thick jumper.  

"Will you please talk to me?"  Pulling away only slightly, he ran his fingers through her short hair and kissed the bridge of her nose.  "Please."   

"I just feel," She looked up at him.  "That I've taken so much away from you." 

Her admission brought out a dimpled smile.  "That's silly, Kathryn.  You've given me more than I've ever lost." 

"But I took your tattoo." 

His stomach sank when he realised the crux of her sadness.  "I should never have made you do it." 

She went on.  "That tattoo was such a part of you and I just erased it." 

 _"Kathryn_ ," He chided her. "It was only a tattoo.  And it was time for it to go."

"But it meant something to you," She argued back.  "It was something special."  

"No," He shook his head.  "Yes it meant something and yes, for a time it was special.  But there are things more important.  Being able to make a life for ourselves here is important.   _You're_ important.   _Not_ the ink on my brow.  All right?  Don't feel guilty anymore," He glanced at himself in the mirror and examined the man looking back at him.  "And if you don't mind my saying so," His voice was light and happy.  "I still think I look _rather dashing_ without it." 

She laughed and gave him the first real smile he'd all day.  "Well at least its loss hasn't hurt your ego." 

"No," He shook his head nonchalantly.  "But what will is if you turn me down for dinner."  

"Well then," She leaned up and kissed his full lips.  "We wouldn't want _that."_  

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

" _Kathryn,"_ He jostled her shoulder in an attempt to wake her. "Kathryn, wake up."  

" _Mm_ ," She flopped back over and buried her head in the pillow.  " _What day is it?"_

"Friday," He kissed her bare back as his hands continued their foray underneath the covers.  

" _What time is it?"_ She pushed his hand away and drew the covers back up over her head.  

"Almost seven," He laughed.  "You never sleep this late." 

Frustrated with his insistence, she turned to him and squinted her eyes.  "Well if I remember correctly," She glared at him.  " _Someone_ kept me up _very late_  last night." 

"Now, now," He shook his head reprovingly.  "I wasn't the one that was begging,  _just once more_."  

"Mmm," She scowled.  "If I remember correctly,  _you were."_

 _"_ Maybe once or twice," He winked. 

"Four times," She told him rightly through a yawn.  "Now, are you finished? Can I go back to sleep?" 

"No," He shook his head as his hand surreptitiously wrapped around the fabric of the duvet.  "I have a surprise for you." 

" _A surprise?"_ She turned her body fully to look at him.  "What kind of surprise?" 

"A surprise," He leaned down to kiss her nose.  "That requires you getting _out_ of bed." 

"Oh," She yawned again. "Well..." Her curiosity was piqued. "Will I like it?" 

He smiled with certainty.  "I think you just might." 

"Is it in the house?" 

"No," He shook his head.  "It's not in the house." 

"Oh... Well..." 

" _Kathryn,"_ That hand tightened on the blanket's hem.  

" _Chak-otay,"_ She countered.  

"Fine." He feigned disinterest.  "We won't go." 

"Go where?" She sat up, the blanket falling to reveal her naked torso.  "Chakotay?" 

"Huh?"  

"Go  _where?"_

"Oh I can't tell you that." 

"And why not?" She argued. 

"Because," He said his next words slowly.  "It's a  _surprise."_

"Okay.  But," She gave him a look and pushed him onto his back.  "You just give me..." One of her legs swung around his hips and the wetness at the apex of her thighs met his morning erection.  "Five. More. Minutes."  

"Fine," A shaky breath said as he slid into her.  "After all, it is a holiday." 

 

 


	44. Chapter 44

“So you’re not going to tell me _anything_ about where we’re going?” Kathryn’s left arm found his thigh and her fingers began dancing in small nondescript designs. 

“ _Kathryn Janeway_ ,” He scolded, briefly glancing at her while keeping his attention on the solitary path in front of them. “I’m not going to tell you; I’m sure you’ll figure it out all on your own soon enough.”

She huffed a sigh of defeat as she removed her hand and drew her leg into her chest, staring out the window to watch the passing scenery. In the still silence, she watched the day come alive as the sun rose over the fields and bathed everything in a golden-orange radiance. Snow and ice still covered the earth, sparkling in the dawn light in the areas that still lay untouched. 

The weather grid in her own time had been programmed to maintain the normal conditions that existed in the biosphere before the Third World War. The nuclear explosions had devastated the Earth’s atmosphere, casting the world into shadow and winter. It had been bleak; millions of people had died on the initial explosions, but even more had died during the nuclear winter due to the cold, the exposure, and the effects of the radiation. One of the brilliant technological advances that was borne out of the devastation was the weather grid; like satellites, about a dozen of them were programmed to rotate about the Earth’s atmosphere to regulate temperature and microclimate patterns.

“What are you thinking, Kathryn?” Chakotay’s warm whispered inflection startled her daydreams.

“Nothing,” She smiled blithely, content to watch the day wake up.  "This area looks a lot like where my father used to take us camping." 

“I remember you telling me about that. “You _hated_ camping.”

“That I did. I _hated_ it! The bugs, the dirt,“ She counted on one hand. "The tents!"  

“And you had no textbooks _or_ bathtubs.”

“ _Not_ a one!” She chuckled. “And for the life of me, I couldn’t get used to sleeping or going the bathroom outside.”

“Didn’t your parents bring those portable bathroom units?”

“Not a one!” She shook her head. “Can you _imagine_? But sometimes," Her voice grew heavy with forlorn nostalgia. "I wish that I’d had a little better attitude. You wouldn’t believe what a _grumbler_ I was when I was an adolescent. I think there was a good time there when I thought my mother wanted to disown me!”

“Kathryn Janeway, _petulant_?" He laughed. "I wouldn't believe it if you told me.” 

She laughed again.  “I can recall this one year, I think it was the last time that we went camping as a family before I went off to the Academy.  I remember watching my parents together on that trip," Kathryn paused. "My father was so seldom home when I was a young girl.  Every other week, he was on an away mission, or negotiations off planet.  But, I remember how wonderful he was when he was there." She smiled at his memory.  "He told the _best_ jokes and could always make us all laugh."

"It sounds like you admired him," He smiled, taking her hand in his.  

“Yes.  I did."  She said.  "I think of him every day.  I wish... I could still talk to him and hear what he was thinking.  There are so many times when I've wanted to ask him things, get his opinion. But, then I remember he isn't there anymore."   

“I’m so sorry, Kathryn.” His thumb moved over hers, soothing.

“After he died, I became terrible depressed.  He was the sun, and I revolved around him."  She quieted for a moment.  "His death hit me harder than either my mother or my sister.  That sounds silly-"

"No," He squeezed her fingers.  "It doesn't."  

"I think it was always assumed that in my family, I belonged to my father while Phoebe was my mother's. Not that I wasn't close with my mother - I was. In my own way.  But I never had what she did with Phoebe.  But after he died, they saved me.  I felt so guilty for his death and I was convinced it was my fault.  But they helped me," She explained. "Helped me see that it wasn't my fault and, after a while, I slowly I got better." 

“Is that when you met Mark?”

“Yes.  Well,” she amended. “No. I knew Mark for a long time before that.  His parents knew my parents and I guess you could say that we grew up together. But Mark and I never should have gotten involved as anything more than friends."

“How come?”

“Mark is the definition of quiet and passive, and for so much of our relationship, I suffocated him," She evoked mournfully.  "There was no passion between us. I think that's why we stayed engaged for so long; neither of us really wanted to be together.  I was so relieved when I read he had gotten married and that he was finally happy." 

“You didn’t seem relieved."   

“I think I was more shocked that we had even heard from home.” Kathryn looked out the window at the giant billboard shaped like what it was advertising. “Look," She pointed and broke the heaviness of their conversation. "World’s largest ball of string?”

He craned his neck to get a better look. “Should we go see it?”

“Chakotay,” She snorted. “If you got me out of bed and drove nearly _three hours_ to see the world’s largest ball of string, we’re going to have a problem on our hands!”

“It’s not!" He shook his head, eyes crinkled with their shared laughter. "But it might be worth the trip.”

“Don’t we have _somewhere_ to be?” She tested slyly.

“I’m not letting up, Kathryn and we don’t have to be there for another hour at least. Let’s go see the giant ball of string," He put the blinker on the pull off at the exit.  "I’m somewhat intrigued.”

“Well, why not?" She shrugged blithely and went along for the ride. "We are explorers after all.”


	45. Chapter 45

“Well I think we can cross _that_ one off the bucket list,” Chakotay twirled the string ball keychain around his finger as they left the hall housing what _indeed_ was the largest ball of string he’d ever seen in his life.

"You know what I think?" She asked him seriously.  

"No," He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they continued back to the car.

“I think of _all_ the stellar phenomena, _all_ the planets, and _all_ the nebulas and gas giants that we’ve seen... that that ball of string outranks all of them.”

“Oh by a long shot,” He agreed sarcastically he opened the car door for her. “Come on, let’s get back on the road.”

“To?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not until you tell me!” She replied. 

“We’ll be there in half an hour,” He stood in front of the open car door and struggled with his new keychain to pry apart the metal enough to slide the car keys onto it. “And you’ll _certainly_ figure it out well before we get there.”

They drove on in silence for a while longer, and as they kept going, the cogwheels in Kathryn’s brain started to turn. They were driving southwest, and with the passage of more and more road signs, a far off suspicion began to settle in her gut.   _“Chakotay_?”

 _“Kathryn?_ ” He syllabled her name, amused that she had finally figured it out.  

Giddy, she moved forward to the edge of her seat to read the sign, now visibly illustrated with a familiar structure. “’ _Welcome to Portage Creek, Indiana_ ’,” She read as butterflies swarmed frenziedly in her stomach. “ _’Home of the Millennium Gate_ ’."  For a moment she simply sat in wait, anticipating when she would see the monstrosity through the trees. "Thank you, Chakotay," Her hand reached to the wheel to take his.  " _Thank you._ "   

They drove along the smooth asphalt road crossing over into the city limits.  And just as they did, the dense topiary parted and she was finally able to see it.  Kathryn recalled the image in her mind of the reconstruction she had made in Astrometrics as she juxtaposed it to the behemoth in front of her.  She had been awestruck when it was only a computer's recreation. But seeing it _this_ close made her breath catch.  

Disillusioned by the truth about her great ancestor Shannon O’Donnell Janeway, the reality of this place had become tainted in Kathryn's mind. And because of that disenchantment, she believed that she had lost something of herself - some metaphysical impetus that had driven her for so many years into becoming the woman that she was.  Vaguely, she remembered the photo that Neelix had given her on Ancestor’s Eve.  In his jovial kindness, he had suggested it take its place in her ready room to remind her of where she came from.  Sadly, barred sharply by her misplaced forlorn and tendered inquiet, it never made it there.  But in this moment, as the truck approached the leviathan base, something switched within her again and that bright eyed wonder that Kathryn had had as a girl woke from its dreary somnolence and illuminated once more.  

“It’s a shopping centre now," Chakotay told her.  "I read online that it even has a hotel and its own move theatre. I thought it would be nice to go see it.” 

“I’d forgotten," She murmured.  "Can you believe it? All this time that we’ve been here and I’d forgotten.”

His eyes crinkled with the reply his next words might bring.  “I looked up a man named Henry Janeway in something called the _White Pages._  He’s married to a woman named Shannon and they have three children who all live in Portage Creek.”

Beguilement was written all over her face. “That's right," She reminded herself of the photo. "I remember they had children together.” 

The roads were busy in the mid afternoon traffic, Chakotay thought as he merged into the right hand lane.  This was what Gregg had warned him about; holiday traffic.  In theory, he hadn't a clue what that meant when the older man had told him.  But he now understood the idiom acutely as the car behind him mercilessly honked the loud horn, eager to merge impossibly into his lane.  

In the stillness, when the cars weren't moving, he silently examined her and the sheer joy transcribed over face.  He had wanted to give her this and see that mournfully antiquated level of girlish excitement that he'd fallen in love with so long ago.  "What do you think?" He whispered, pulling off at their exit as he followed the signs into the Gate's main parking lot.  

It was vast, she thought - even larger than she could have imagined back in Astrometrics all that time ago. “There,” She squeezed his fingers in between hers while she pointed with her other hand to a family getting into their car. “Stop.  I think they're leaving.”

He turned off the ignition once the car was safely nestled in the prised spot before turning to look at her. “Ready to go inside?”

 From the broad base, she looked up to see its extensive city of solar panels sparkle in the light peeking through the grey overcast of the day.   _Over one kilometre high_ , she remembered,  _the world's first self-sustaining eco system._   It was heralded to be one of the greatest wonders of its time, she read.  Even more impressive than any skyscraper, it was a feat of mechanical and civil engineering.  

Like an eager child, her legs carried her quickly so that _he_ was _shuffling_ to keep up. “Excited?”

“You have no idea,” She smiled back at him. “I can’t believe that we're  _really_ here!”

Large revolving glass doors ushered them and the bodies they were pressed against into a huge lobby where those around them barrelled out in every conceivable direction out onto reflectively polished granite floors. From the here, you could look up and see level after level of shops and businesses and the hundreds and people that came and went, carrying shopping bags while they talked and laughed.

But coming here, Chakotay had something very particular in mind.  More than just seeing the structure, he wanted to give her something special.  Tugging on her hand,  he jolted her from stupor and she met his gaze with a wide-eyed grin. “I have something to show you,” He said, leading her over to the huge directory. “Before we came, I browsed the mall directory, and...” His eyes scanned the large touchscreen screen directory for his target. “Here it is,” He pointed triumphantly. “Alexandria Books.”

" _Henry Janeway’s book shop_?"  Dumfounded, she looked at him. “He moved his book store into the Millennium Gate?”

"I think so," He glinted, tugging her towards one of the many lifts.  "Should we go see?"  


	46. Chapter 46

There were five lifts she counted, one for each corner of the building.  Glass, they gave a full view as the passenger went up and down.  "Tenth floor, was it?" 

Pressed against the back, they stood craning their necks to marvel as the lift ascended.  Kathryn had never seen anything like this.  Perhaps, the closest imitation was one particular complex on Risa that she had seen as a cadet on shore leave. But it was certainly nothing in comparison to the magnanimity around her.  

From this vantage point, she could look down to a solitary slate wall with water running down it into a basin which was dotted artfully with bubbling fountains and exotic ficuses, none of which she could identify.   Seasonal plants and flowers were planted along the railings that lined the upper levels and lent them colour. They were, no doubt, another aspect of the biosphere. Scant sunlight shone in through the domed glass ceiling which was arched in meaningfully placed steal artistry. And, most entertaining, were the massive sphere-shaped lights suspended from different lengths of twirled wrought iron. This was a testament, she breathed proudly, to the human ingenuity of the builders, architects, and visionaries who dreamed this.

While she made hers, Chakotay made his own inspection, grinning as his eyes registered the thousand Valentines decorations. All the mammoth-sized red hearts that hung poised from the ceiling and the tiny pink lights that were twined around the railings of each floor. At each level, a gentle disembodied voice, much like Voyager's, sounded each level as people barrelled out, pushing against one another to pass quickly though the door before they missed their stop. "I think we're next," He whispered into her hair as he laid a gentle kiss there.

" _Level ten_ ," The placid voice sounded from the overhead as the lift came to a halt. Only eleven levels in total, the elevator had petered out on its way up, leaving it empty as they stepped off.

He looked around as they stood in middle of bright hall. "Certainly not as hectic as the other levels."

She nodded, turning her head eagerly to look around her for their destination. "Was it down this way?" She pointed. "Or that?"

"If I remember correctly," He pointed to the left.  "It's should be at the end of this corridor," 

The sound of the tall waterfall and the soft jazz playing overhead providing a background to the faint hullaballoo that sounded from this and the lower levels as they followed the path in front of them. "There," She pointed. "There it is. Alexandria Books."

The storefront was large – occupying three large windows whereas most stores, she noticed, only had two. Heaps of books lay in artfully arranged piles and towers. Some were newer and more recent, she assumed by the vibrancy of their binding. And some, well most, were older – their pages worn, yellowed, jagged, and uneven.

She walked hesitantly up to the first display of books written for children. She didn't recognise any of them, of course, with their creative and silly titles coupled with the funny, animated illustrations on their covers . Around the books, a toy train ran in circles on a large track as antique teddy bears and stuffed cartoony circus animals looked on from the sidelines. It was beautiful, she thought; a work of inventive whimsy and art.

The second window display was of new books, a large cut out of the most popular laying in the background along with local readers' recommendations.

And the third and final window was of the classics. Propped on a mount, a large collectors piece lay in the centre. Its pages were abstrusely drawn with what looked to be ancient Celtic designs in lavish hues of greens, reds, and golds. The writing was in a language she'd never seen before, presumably Gaelic judging by the schemes on the margins. Decorating the periphery were other well-known titles, the spaces that they occupied originally and enticingly bedecked; grecian pottery jugs surrounded copies of the Iliad and the Odyssey; a twisted brooch sat slyly on top of a copy of Oedipus. A small phial and sheathed dagger lay dangerously in front of a copy of Romeo And Juliet. And so it went for other copies. 

Standing here, she could smell the bookstore; it was that most loved and heartbreakingly rare mingled scent of old and new pages, of stories, poetry, and epics; the power of the human experience and imagination.

"Well," She felt his hand in hers. "What do you say?"


	47. Chapter 47

Two mellifluous and strategically placed brass bells signalled their entry as they stepped over the threshold.  And for a moment, her strides were as tentative as a child's while her eyes latched onto to the visual feast the surrounded her. Coming into the store, she realised the window displays were just an enticement to cleverly ensnare shoppers.

The store itself was divided into two levels connected by a central staircase. From the headings indicated above the diverse and colourfully painted bookshelves, the lower level seemed to be divided between classic literature, and children and teen genres. Whereas those shelves upstairs housed titles pertaining to mystery, drama, romance, and religion.  What was most enthralling, she thought, was the way by which the store had indicated to the customer where respective titles lay.  Figurines dangled as if suspended in mid air by clear cuts of string from the vaulted ceiling. Some of the Kathryn could recognise.  There was Hester Prynne’s large red ‘A’ which hung beside an intricate cutout of a mockingbird. Staggered to those, a black cartoon tracing of George Orwell’s animal farm swung beside the Phantom’s white theatre mask with twirling burgundy ribbons swaying playfully beneath the air vent.  The best, though, was Captain Ahab’s giant sperm wale with a harpoon angled towards its back, which was poised next to a stupendously handcrafted recreation of the giant squid from Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

In the children’s section, a gigantic dragon presided over a table with stacks of the same title. And not far from that, a fancifully shaped broomstick, witch’s hats, and wands dangled over their own set of shelves. Chakotay had never seen quite so many books in one place, or quite so much thought put into their titles. In his own time, paper was something of an artefact, with nearly everything was contained on padds or large, readily accessible computer databases.

Before his foray on Voyager, he had never been much for reading anything other than the required technical texts for entrance to the academy and thereafter only his class reading. Everything else after that was mostly comprised of ships manuals or crew files.  It hadn't been until he met Kathryn that he started to change his views on literature. What to him once seemed a waste of time soon became a way for him to connect with her and share in her interests.  

He remembered the first book she had ever lent him. It was near the end of their first year in the Delta Quadrant. She had invited him for dinner in her quarters to go over duty rosters. Busy cursing at her replicator, she hadn’t noticed his wandering eyes staring at the many volumes in her bookshelf. Most of the titles he had never heard of – _The Inferno, La Vita Nuova, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre,_ and many others he couldn't quite remember.  But what he did recall was the ensuing conversation they'd had after she found him snooping.

_“Are you a fan of reading, Commander?”_

_He shook his head, covering his embarrassment that she’d found him being so intrusive.  "No."_

_She cocked her eyebrow at him, as if she’d never heard anything so ludicrous._

_“Well, I mean… I haven’t read much in terms of books… classics… classic books…” He fumbled, nearly blushing at his own bumbling redundancy._

_“Well we can’t have that. Here,” Kathryn picked up a worn book with a friable binding, and handed it to him gently. “Mark, my fiancé, gave this to me. It’s called The Inferno.  Give it a try. And don’t be discouraged by the confusing language; let it speak to.  Sometimes, reading is about the journey. Books help you find bits of yourself, but only if you’re willing to be patient.”_

“Hello there,” A lanky older gentleman with a proud shock of white hair walked towards them. “Can I help you with anything?”

Kathryn recognised him without preamble; this was the man in the photograph of the newspaper scan she had seen on her computer a year ago.  Unmistakably, this was Henry Janeway.

“We were just looking,” Chakotay said to cover the awkward silence.

“So what do you think?” Henry chuckled as he brought his arms out and motioned around him. 

“It’s wonderful,” Kathryn replied. "We’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Well now that’s the idea," He grinned.  "We have to compete, you see!”

“Compete?” Kathryn cocked an elegant eyebrow; from what they’d seen on the directory, this was the only bookstore in the mall.

“With this technologically _obsessed_ , ‘ _iPad Generation_ ' as I like to call it," He explained.  "Kids these days have lost the wonder, _that mental acquisitiveness_ to read and to imagine!” He looked up at them, observing the amused bafflement in their faces. “I’m sorry,” He chuckled. “I get a little carried away, or so my wife would say. So what’s your fancy?”

“Well now,” Kathryn up her hand in thought.  "That depends on the mood.”

“Good woman.  I’d have to agree. But whose work would you say," He searched for the words. " _Transcends_ the mood and the overt tendency of the choleric human temperament?”

“Dante," She said right away. "His words are open to the readers interpretation and as such speak to all levels of human nature.”

The older gentleman nodded his head. “A good enough choice. But I would have gone with Homer.”

 _“Homer_?” Kathryn huffed a laugh of disbelief.

“Of course!” Henry leaned back on his heels. “Heroic epics are always a balm to the shattered human soul. They remind us that, though who we are is fallible, we are not ultimately irredeemable.”

“I concede,” Kathryn bowed her head, trying to hold her laughter. “The next time I pick up a book, it will have to be the Odyssey. Goodness it’s been _years_ since I read it!”

“It just gets better every time,” The older man winked.

“ _Henry_!” A disembodied, but strangely familiar cadence came from behind them. From the room behind the stately desk at the front of the store where several people were purchasing their items, an older woman with short auburn hair sauntered out. “ _Henry_?” She called again before she spotted the trio near the front.

Kathryn turned and saw her first. She petite like herself with similar colouring and a sway of her hips that she could instantly place.  And she smiled to herself as those same butterflies hopped a jig in her belly as her palms dependably began to sweat. There was no doubt about it; _this_ was Shannon O’Donnell Janeway.


	48. Chapter 48

“Over here!” Henry gave a grin as he turned to his wife.

“ _Somehow_ ,” She shook her head, laughing as she wagged her finger at him while her arm came to rest on her waist. “When I sent you out for coffee, I knew you wouldn’t get far.”

“I _promise_  I was on my way.  But then I ran into these two lovely people," He told her earnestly with a familiar gleam. “I'm sorry I didn’t catch your names. My name is Henry Janeway and this is my wife Shannon.”

A broad grin spread over Kathryn’s features as she tore her eyes quickly away from Shannon and her husband to share a brief look with the man beside her. “Kathryn,” She extended her hand to Henry’s. It was whimsically poignant, yet totally unbelievable at the same time that she should be touching them right now when only a year ago they had been nothing more than names on a page and figments of her imagination.    

Seven had thought her preposterous when she had expressed such an interest in Shannon O'Donnell. “ _She is fifteen generations removed_ ,” She said. “ _You share only a fraction of her DNA._ ” And yes, she was right. But Kathryn had known even then that mere chromosomes had very little to do with the reality of family and even though she might only share _maybe_ two percent of her genetic makeup with these two, she felt an immediate sense of kinship.

“Chakotay.  It’s nice to meet both of you. Your bookstore amazing.”

“Thank you,” Shannon grinned. “It was all Henry and our son Jason’s vision."

"I was telling them," Henry's eyes travelled the rich scene in front of him.  "That the traditional bookstore is becoming a dying art."

"For once I'll agree with Henry," Shannon's lips turned, similarly forlorn.  "But," She rolled her eyes in spite of herself and turned the conversation to something more pleasant.  "So, Chakotay, huh?  That's an interesting name."  

Chakotay gave a dimpled grin.  “Certainly not something you hear every day.”

“Certainly not!" Henry agreed.   "But none of the greats ever had ordinary names.Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, Ichabod Crane, Atticus Finch! _But_ ," He told him seriously.  "In my book, an unique name sets someone up for an extraordinary life.”

“And it certainly has been extraordinary so far.” The younger man blushed.  

“See what I mean?”  

“Are you two from the area?” Shannon asked the couple.

“Not quite.” Kathryn gave a grin.  

“Oh?” 

“We live in Arcadia." Kathryn explained.  "Nearly a three hours' drive from here."  

“Arcadia, huh?” Henry rubbed his chin in thought.  “Why does that sound familiar? It’s up to the north isn’t it? Not far from Bloomington?”

“Yes,” Chakotay told him. “That’s right. Just an hour from the city.”

“I think we’ve driven through there a few times,” Henry remembered. “Must be years ago now when we went to talk with suppliers. Are you two from Arcadia, or?”

Kathryn had to smile at the question; they were still trying to figure that one out. “No,” Chakotay gave Kathryn a look. “We just sort of landed there…”  

Shannon laughed and shared a similarly knowing glance with the man beside her. “That’s how I ended up here in Portage Creek.”

“Funny," Henry teased.  "That’s not at all how I remember it. If you recall, it was my _siren’s song_ that _lured_ you here, like Odysseus to Calypso’s Island! But thankfully," He looked at her gratefully.  "Unlike the great hero, you were incapable of getting away.”

“Oh is that how it happened?" Shannon guffawed, her hand meeting the centre of his chest.  "I was lured by your innumerable charms?”

“So,” Henry looked at the couple again before he glanced at the register over their shoulder. 

“We’re sorry,” Kathryn read his gesture. “We don’t want to keep you if you have to go.”

“No not at all," He reassured. "That’s one of our sons over there at the register.  Caleb. He gets drafted after school to work at the store.”

“Caleb complains," Shannon winked, and whispered conspiratorially "But he secretly _loves_ working here.  Please,” She glinted. "You were going to tell us about Arcadia." 

“Uh well," Chakotay told them. "We work at a place called _Camp Adventure_ -“

“Oh I think I've read about that!” Henry remembered. “A camp for sick children, isn't that right?”

“Yes,” Chakotay nodded. “We’re been managing it for the owners.  But it's still a little new to us.”

“Is this your first year doing camp work, or just at _Camp Adventure_?” Shannon probed.

“It’s uh,” Kathryn was unsure of how far they would take this. “It’s our first year doing camp work, really.”

“Oh, that's interesting,” Shannon considered the two in front of her. Somehow, she thought, they seemed the two most unlikely to be running a camp.  There was just _something_ about them that she couldn't quite put her finger on.  

"What were you doing before that?"  It seemed that Henry was just as curious as his wife.  

“Odd jobs.” Was all Chakotay could cover because telling the truth would be too much of a stretch... _Well, actually, Kathryn is a starship captain from three hundred years in the future where she led a ship called the USS Voyager through the Delta Quadrant. And I was her first officer._

“I guess you could say we were explorers,” Kathryn shrugged. "We-" 

“ _Hey_ ,  _Dad_!” Caleb's voice interrupted them from the register. “ _Can you come here for a minute_?”

Henry turned his head and looked back. “Sorry,” He smiled, putting his hand lightly on Chakotay's arm before he turned away. “Duty calls. It's been good to talk to you.”

“No problem,” Chakotay returned his grin with a nod. “And likewise.”  

As her husband walked away, Shannon turned back to them. “Have you two been to the Millennium Gate before?”

“No,” Kathryn shook her head. “But I've always been fascinated and, as a surprise, Chakotay brought me.”

“A Valentines Day gift,” His smiling eyes met hers.

“I’ve wanted to see the project for a while now and I have to say," Her eyes peeked to the outside beyond the store's window displays. "That it exceeds _all_ expectations.”

“It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?” Shannon beamed. “I’ve been working on the project since it started in two thousand one. And it’s been incredible. The builders along with our team of architects and engineers have done a remarkable job.  It's exceeded all of our expectations!”

Kathryn delved slyly, trying to place the missing pieces to the gnarly jigsaw puzzle that she had only been able to put together from a few odd newspaper clippings. “So _you’ve worked_ on the project?”

“Yes," Shannon nodded. "I’m part of a central group of ten engineers who've been with the project the whole way through. We designed the world's first _self-contained biosphere._ Would you believe that the energy generated here and supplies the town and the area around Portage Creek! We even have our own water and sewage purification system.” She bubbled. 

“From the available design schematics it looks like you’re using a completely new method of maintaining the biosphere," Kathryn's excitement rose. "No one up until this point has been able to implement the _Botzman Method_ with any measure of success.” _Oh_ , Kathryn’s heart stopped at her own words as they had slipped out unguarded and of their own carefree volition.

Shannon tilted her head gave a sly, crooked smile. “Are you an engineer, Kathryn?”

“I- uh,” She looked down for a moment when she felt Chakotay's hand on her back. “Well, you could say so…”

“Only an engineer would know about the _Botzman Method._ Where did you-” 

“ _Shannon_?” Henry called as he rounded the trio again. “Sorry to interrupt.  Jason just called and he wants to drop off the twins this tonight so he and Anna can have the night to themselves. I told him we’d pick the kids up from school and let them spend the night.”

Shannon gave a look and glanced down at her watch. “That’s in forty minutes. If I want to get there on time, I’d have to leave _now_.”

“I know,” Henry looked down a little sheepishly. “But they wanted to go out for Valentines Day. Can you blame them?”

“No," She gave him a sympathetic look and shook her head.  "I’ll leave in a few minutes. I’m sorry,” She turned back to Kathryn and Chakotay. “I have to go get our grandchildren from school. But, why don’t you two join us for dinner tonight? That way you can tell me all about your engineering experience and I’ll tell you more about the project.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Henry chimed in. “We’ll have all the kids, but they’re well behaved,” He made a face. "Fingers crossed.”

A look of surprise must have crossed the couple's faces. “ _Oh!”_ Shannon blushed. “ _Henry_ , it’s _Valentines Day_! These two must have plans, well-“

“No,” Chakotay smiled broadly. “We would love to join you. Thank you for the offer.”

That smile crept back up on Shannon's familiar features.  “It would be our pleasure. We live just in town, on old Main Street.  Fourteen Main Street to be exact. If you came through town, just go back that way and you shouldn’t miss it.

"Come by at around six,” Henry glanced down at his watch. “It isn’t often we have guests over, so we apologise in advance for any mishaps or untowardness our children and grandchildren might exhibit.”

Shannon laughed and lightly hit him on the chest. “Stop it. In the meantime, have a look around and if you see anything you like, it’s on us.”

“Oh no,” Kathryn shook her head. “We couldn’t, really. You’ve been too kind already.”

“No,” Henry cut her off kindly. “ _I insist_. I’ll tell Caleb at the counter that he isn’t to let you leave without a book or two of your choice.”

“Thank you,” Chakotay bowed his head in gratitude for the unexpected kindness.

“Don't mention it,” Shannon patted his arm. “We’ll see you at six!”


	49. Chapter 49

 "I  _can't believe_ we just met Shannon and Henry Janeway." Kathryn whispered as they disappeared behind one of the great bookshelves.

As they stopped, he turned to look at her.  “Were they what you expected?” 

“I don't know,” She told him rightly. “But whatever I had imagined,” she went silent, still lost her whirlpool of astonishment and disbelief. “Somehow, they were better.”

“ _The Count of Monte Cristo_ ,” He read off the shelf at his eye level as he picked up the heavy hardcover. “Have you ever heard of it?”

Kathryn smiled and nodded her head. “It's about a young sailor during the days of Napoleon who is wrongly accused of of being a traitor and sent to prison. He loses _everything_  including the woman he loves, his position, and his friends. And," She paused for dramatic effect.  "When he escapes the prison, he sets out to take revenge on those who wronged him."

He opened the book slowly to the first page. “I was once told that you'd like a book if you read the first page and couldn't help but go on.”

"Oh?" She looked up at his smiling eyes. "Who told you that?"  

“I think it was Tom.”

“ _Tom Paris_? He reads?”

“I was just as surprised.” 

"You learn something new every day!"  She laughed, scanning the bottom shelf.  "I  can't even remember the last time I had the time to sit down and read a book cover to cover."  

They fell back into a comfortable silence, each content to look. "I shouldn't have said what I did to Shannon," She said after a time.  

"You were excited," He ran his fingers through her hair.  "That's not a bad thing."

"I know," She looked at him a little diffidently.  "But she's going to wonder how I knew anything about that."

"I remember learning about the _Botzman Method_ my first year at the Academy." 

"It might be common knowledge to us," She reminded him. "But I have no doubt that during this time it would have been revolutionary. Oh," She looked away from him as her eyes came across something on the shelf.  “ _Little Women_ , By Louisa May Alcott. I've always wanted to read this book.” She held it for a while, flipping through the stiff pages before she made up her mind. 

Keeping an eye on the clock, he held out his hand and pulled her up. “ _Oh,_ ” She exclaimed as she returned to full height. “My knees certainly aren’t as young as they used to be!”

He grinned as he kept hold of her hand. "Join the club."  

“I wonder if we can _bully_ the young man into letting us pay for the books.”

“We’ll try,” Chakotay chuckled. “But I have a feeling that Mr. Janeway left very specific instructions. And if his last name is any indication, _stubbornness_ is a family trait.”

“Are you saying I’m stubborn, Chakotay?” She teased as they walked out into the populated bookstore proper.

“ _Did I say that?_ ” He asked innocently and kept a straight face. 

The register was empty when they walked up to it. “Hello there,” Kathryn held up the two books they had chosen. “We’re just here to pay for these.”

Caleb looked them up and down. “Oh no; I’m under _strict_ instructions not to let you pay for those,” he smiled. “Would you two like a bag?”

“Strict huh?” Chakotay nodded as he handed him the books. 

"Under threat of death," Caleb told them earnestly with a wink.  

"Sounds serious," Kathryn played along.  

"Oh it is," Caleb laughed.  "Or haven't you met my mother? So you two are coming over for dinner tonight.” He grinned. “That’s what dad said.”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded.

“We _never_ have anyone over. Dad’s a little too quirky for most people,” He laughed. “Jason said he got a lot better once he met mom.”

“Do you like working here, Caleb?” Kathryn kept a wide grin. He looked so much like what her father did when he was young, she thought remembering old holophotos she had seen of him during his days at the Academy. 

He shrugged. "I like it.  It's something to do and I like being here in the Gate. Have you two seen much of it?”

“Just on our way in,” Chakotay answered as he took the canvass bag over the counter.

“You should take a walk around, especially on the lower level where the fountain is. It’s really neat. All the fountains at the base of the waterfall are creations of local Indiana artists. Some of them are really awesome.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Kathryn smiled as they moved to back away.

“Well,” He nodded as the next customer came to the counter.  "I'll see you tonight then." 

“Thank you,” Chakotay smiled at the young man. “See you later. So," He turned to Kathryn.  "How about a look around?" 

She smiled and took his hand as they resumed their exploration.  "Lead on, Commander."  


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all you non-Irish speakers out there Aoiffe is pronounced Ee-fa!

" _Aoiffe!_ " Shannon called at the doorbell's loud ring. " _Would you get the door_?!"

"Sure, Mom!" A lanky, freckled redhead excitedly bounded down the old spiral staircase to the front door. They  _never_  had company, the young girl thought; it was always the same – just them,  _every night,_  except for when Jason and his family came. But they were still family, so they didn't count. And  _besides_ , they were all here so often that they all might as well live here.

She had been so excited when she found out that they were having guests over. Since she got back from lacrosse and heard she news, she'd peppered Caleb with question after question about what Kathryn and Chakotay were like. But as usual he had just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. " _Aoiffe,_   _they're just people that mom and dad invited over. I don't know anything else. They seemed nice though…"_

A warm rush of air washed the visitors in a huff as the door swung open. "Hello!" The young girl's bright blue eyes scanned the couple and a blush crossed her pale skin. "Whoah," slipped out unguarded as her adolescent eyes scanned over Chakotay. "Are you Kathryn and Chakotay?"

"Yes," Chakotay smiled deep dimples at the girl, to which Kathryn just laughed and rolled her eyes. "Hello."

" _Aoif?_ " A familiar masculine voice called from behind her. " _Is that-?_  Well, hello!" Henry smiled at the couple as they shivered in the doorway. "Well for God's sake, silly!" He chuckled. "Invite our poor guests inside!"

" _Oh!_ " She blushed as she stood aside and closed the door behind them. "Can I take your coats?"

"Yes," Chakotay nodded as he helped Kathryn out of hers before slipping his off and handing it to the young girl. "Thank you."

"No problem," Aoiffe giggled as she moved past them to the coat closet.

"You made it!" Shannon beamed as she walked over to them while she drying her hands on her green apron.

"Yes," Kathryn held up a bottle of wine. "And I was told never to come empty handed!"

"Oh Kathryn," Shannon smiled as she took the bottle. "There was no need. But I have to say, you're a saint. And it's  _red_! We were down to white, Henry's favourite, not mine. We'll open a little bit of both this evening. How does that sound?"

Chakotay nodded. "Thank you again for having us. It smells great."

"Oh no need to thank us. It's our pleasure! Tonight, we're trying out a new recipe:  _paella_. With any luck," Shannon crossed her fingers. "It won't kill us."

Henry snorted as he opened the bottle of wine. "You're not filling us with confidence," He winked. "I'm only kidding. Shannon is a wonderful cook."

"Nice save, Mr. Janeway. But, it's true," She poured the corked bottle evenly and generously among all four glasses. "I've improved in these past thirteen years. Our son Jason can tell you horror story after horror story of what it was like to live with my cooking when Henry and I first got married."

"It wasn't  _that_  bad," Henry placated as he swirled the dark liquid around in faint circles.

"Well if its any consolation," Kathryn told her. " I couldn't cook to save my life! And, in the interest of Chakotay's and my continued survival, I've barred myself from the kitchen for anything other than coffe."

"Oh, _Kathryn,_  I'm sure it isn't _that_  bad," Shannon gave her a smiled look as a loud timer sounded out through the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

She took a large, round terracotta pan out of the oven. "Have a seat!" She indicated to the large nearby table. "I'll just bring this right over."

"Aoiffe," Henry nudged his young daughter from her position on the overstuffed brown couch. "Go get Caleb and the twins, will you?"

"Sure," She ran up the central staircase. " _Caleb! John Mark! Eli! Dinner_!" She called as her voice resonated loudly down the hallway.

"Your house is exceptional, Henry," Chakotay held Kathryn's chair for her to sit before he took his own seat next to her.

The older man smiled warmly as he sat adjacent to them at the head of the antique maple table. "Believe it or not, this used to be our old store before we moved into the Millennium Gate."

"Really?" Kathryn leaned to Henry's side of the table as she took the cloth napkin and spread it over her lap.

"Mmhm," He nodded as the sound of children's voices echoed into the main room. Henry looked up at the brood that followed one behind the other down the tapered staircase.

"Hi," A short sandy-haired boy looked up at Chakotay as he plopped into his seat next to him. "I'm Eli."

 _"Eli!_ " Aoiffe complained. "I wanted to sit there!"

"Too bad, Aoiffe," Eli protested as he wriggled his bottom into the chair to indicate his property. "I want to sit next to our guest!"

 _"Fine,_ " She grumbled as she sat adjacent to Kathryn.

Another young man, not more than seven years old and the exact copy of his brother took his seat next to his grandfather. "I'm John Mark," He told them.

"It's nice to meet you, Eli, John Mark, Aoiffe. Caleb, it's good to see you again."

"You too, sir," The boy nodded just as his mother came forward and set the large casserole dish in the centre of the table.

Like Chakotay's and Jan's dinners, the meal was an array of colours with vegetables of all varieties deliciously simmering in tomato sauce. "It looks delicious,  _wonderful_ , Shannon."

"That remains to be seen," The older woman gleamed. "But thank you for your confidence. Well," She placed a large serving ladle on the side. "Dig in, everyone. I made a lot, so have at it."

"Delicious," Chakotay complimented as he swallowed his first bite. "I might have to steal the recipe off of you."

"By all means," Shannon swallowed another sip of wine. "Chakotay, I've been dying to ask about your name. What does it mean? I'm assuming it's Native American."

Aoiffe rolled her eyes. "Mom loves names with meanings, especially ones that  _no one_  can pronounce!"

He chuckled. "Is that how you ended up with Aoiffe?"

She nodded as she chewed a piece of bread. "No one can read it, and they always forget how to say it!"

"How's it spelled?" Kathryn had never heard such a name. It was beautiful, she thought, something entirely characteristic.

"A O I F F E," She spelled out. "It took me  _forever_  to spell my own name. And every year, when I get a new homeroom teacher, it takes them at least  _two weeks_  to get used to it!"

 _"Aoiffe Janeway_ ," Henry lovingly scolded. "You have an absolutely beautiful name. You were named after Mom's great ancestor who came all the way from Ireland-"

"In nineteen o' seven," she finished. "She was one of the first people off the boat at Ellis Island. I know, dad. And it's not that I don't like my name. It's just that I wish it were easier for people over here,  _in this country,_  to get used to. So," she turned back to Chakotay. "How did you get a name like Chakotay?"

"My father," He laid down his fork and wiped the tomato sauce off the corner of his mouth. "He was very traditional."

Caleb laughed and looked at his father. "Sounds familiar! So how did he pick Chakotay?"

"Well the literal translation of Chakotay in my language is 'great tree'. It was my great, great grandfather's name."

"Great tree?" Eli repeated. "That's cool."

"Are you a  _real_  Indian, Mr. Chakotay?" John Mark looked up from his own plate, his face charmingly smeared with tomato sauce as he licked his fingers.

"Mmhm," Chakotay nodded, his face awash with delight. He'd forgotten in these few months what it was like to be around children. He immediately remembered Naomi and how differently she saw the world. Being there to watch her grow and to participate in her life was a gift that he had cherished.

Conversation and laughter all around him, Chakotay was happy to sit back. Belly full and wine in hand, he watched Kathryn interact with her family. This was her dream come true as Shannon had been a mainstay in the lore of Kathryn's family for generations. And like it was for anyone meeting their childhood idol,  _this_  was a fantasy realised for her.


	51. Chapter 51

“So tell us, Henry,” Kathryn leaned back in her chair, satisfactorily filled the brim with wine and food. “When did you move the store into the Millennium Gate?”

He thought back. "I suppose that all goes back to how Shannon and I first met.” 

Shannon gave him a smirk. “I don’t think our new friends want to hear that story.”

“It’s a good story, mom,” Caleb gently encouraged. “But I think Jason tells it best.”

“Well?” Chakotay grinned, spurring Henry expectantly.

 _“Well,_ ” He started. “Let’s see. It was just as the year two thousand was coming to an end and the Millennium Group settled on Portage Creek as the _ideal_ place to build their _one-of-a-kind_ experimental Millennium Gate." 

"Why Portage Creek?" Chakotay asked. 

Henry rubbed his eyes.  "Back then, the town was nothing more than a glorified pit stop it was so poor." 

"Convenience more than anything else," Shannon explained.  "People here were desperate for anything that would boost the local economy and the Gate was a seductive offer." 

"That's right," Henry remembered back all those years ago.  "Except for me.  I was  _adamant_ that we not give into the Gate's officials and sell the town." 

"Henry was the last hold out," Shannon grinned at him. "If he didn't sell by midnight of New Year's Eve, the project would have packed up and gone to Canton, Ohio." 

Kathryn joined in and asked a question she'd wanted to since she read the newspaper clipping on the console in her ready room.  "What were you holding out for?"  

Henry let out a long breath.  "I saw the Gate as a threat to our way of life.  I wanted to preserve the town's past and I thought that if we let the Gate build here, well then there would be nothing left. So, I was determined to hold out."  

“Was he ever!" Shannon moved forward in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.  "But then..."  

"Then," Henry winked at his wife.  "I met Shannon."

Caleb smiled.  "Jason says that if mom hadn't come along, we wouldn't even have the Gate in Portage Creek."  

Chakotay appreciated the affection between the husband and wife team.  "Was there a reason you came to Portage Creek, Shannon?" 

 "No. Not a one! _Pure chance_ ," Humour coloured her freckled features. “I was on my way to Florida when I turned off the freeway into Portage Creek because my car needed gas and the maintenance light had gone on.  In those days, I was still driving my old clunker station wagon that I'd had since college. I remember driving into town and asking a man for directions when all of a sudden I rear ended the car in front of me!"

"You got into an accident!"  Kathryn's eyebrows communicated her concern.

"No," Shannon told her. "Not really, but it was the last straw and my car broke down not too far from where we are now. I was _freezing_ , _completely broke_ , and I needed somewhere to warm up while I waited for a tow truck. And Henry’s store here was the only place that was still open!”

“So,” Henry picked the story up again. “Shannon came in and asked me for a job to pay off the mechanic’s bill.”

"I had no money," Shannon shrugged.  "After I left NASA, I was practically living off the change I could find in my car seats!"

"NASA," Kathryn repeated quietly.   

“Yes," Shannon remembered.  "Would you believe I was training to be an astronaut? In college I studied aerospace engineering. And during my senior year, I applied for a training programme at NASA,” She rubbed her eyes, as if batting away some misplaced sense of embarrassment. 

“So what happened?” Kathryn whispered.

Shannon exhaled plaintively as she folded her hands into her lap. “A lot of things." 

“But then she ended up here.” Henry smiled, changing the pace of the conversation.

 “Yes,” She glinted at him. “And brought _you_ into the _twenty first century_!”

“That you did," He agreed.  "Shannon convinced me to sell at the last moment, and move this town into the future. So,” he nodded and turned back to their two guests. “In a _very long_ nutshell, _that_ is how I ended up at the Gate.”

“And we've been with it ever since.  But now," Shannon turned to Kathryn. "For the first time since we built the damn thing, we’re starting to have trouble with the environmental controls and the energy systems."

"What do you mean, t _rouble_?" Chakotay asked, bewildered. 

"Well," Shannon genuflected.  "Only that the _Method_ isn't working anymore. Are you an engineer by trade, Kathryn? I’ve been meaning to ask…” Shannon’s harkened back to their earlier conversation.

 “Yes, you could say so,” Kathryn answered noncommittally. “But I haven’t worked strictly as an engineer in _years_."

"And now you're working at a camp?" Shannon gave her an entertained look.  "Very odd." 

 “A jack of all trades,” Henry smiled.

 “Something like that,” Chakotay told them as he took her hand under the table.

 “And what about you, Chakotay?” Henry turned to his new friend. “What’s your background?”

 _Starfleet officer. Former professor. A Maquis rebel._  “Anthropology, really. But, like Kathryn, I haven’t worked in the field for many years."  His eye caught the clock on the far wall in the kitchen.  "As much as we would love to stay, we should get going.”

“ _Oh!_ ” Shannon's eyes opened. “You're right! It’s nearly eleven and you have a three hour drive ahead of you.”

 “It’s all right,” Chakotay soothed. "I don't mind the drive and," He looked to the woman on his right.  "I've got company." 

 Shannon walked back into the kitchen with their coats. “Can I get you two anything before you go? Coffee? Do you want anything to take back with you?”

 “No, no, thank you, Shannon.” Kathryn rose and took the coats.  "You're very kind." 

“It’s been wonderful to talk with the both of you, it’s been a while since Shannon and I did anything like this.” Henry said as he rounded the table to say goodbye.

“It was our pleasure. Really," Kathryn glinted, not knowing if they could understand how much this dinner had meant to her. "Thank you for a lovely dinner and good company.”

"Kathryn?” Shannon walked them towards the door. “Do you have an email address? If we had more time, I would have talked with you more about it.  But you're just about the only engineer I've talked to in a while about the  _Method,_ and it seems like you might have some insight.  Would you mind if I sent you some information to get your feedback?" 

“Oh,” Kathryn looked at Chakotay who simply shrugged.  What was she going to say? _No_?  So she reached in her pocket where she carried a small pad of paper. “Chakotay, do you have a pen?”

He produced the object before she finished asking for it. “This is the camp's email address, “  She told her. "I don't know how much help I'll be..."  

"Just even to get your insight," Shannon said gratefully as her two guests headed out the door.  

"Thank you again," Chakotay regarded the couple.  

 “We’ll have to do it again sometime," Henry crossed his arms against the cold as they made their way outside. "Maybe next time we’ll take a trip up to Arcadia. Or you can come back here. You’re always welcome.”

 “Likewise,” Chakotay looked back. “And thanks again.”


	52. Chapter 52

The streets were dark, empty now as the truck rolled solitarily out of Portage Creek and onto the desolate freeway.  A serene grin wouldn’t,  _couldn't_  , leave her face as she looked into the darkness, watching the town go by and the lighted Gate fade off into the distance. “Thank you, Chakotay,” She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That was the most wonderful gift anyone’s ever given me.”

He simply smiled in response as he took one hand off the wheel to lightly comb his fingers through her hair before he touched the side of her face, still revelling in the freedom to do so. “Happy Valentines Day, Kathryn.”

“Can you believe that we just had dinner with Shannon and Henry Janeway and their family? _Four generations_ of Janeways all under one roof!”

“That we did!” He laughed.  " _That_ we did." 

Back on Voyager he had yearned to see this side of Kathryn more than their circumstances allowed her to show it.  It was a gift, he thought, to see this effervescent, vivacious, and wide-eyed woman who had, for too long, been tragically interred under leaden layers of guilt and responsibility. Then, he had intermittently caught glimpses of this side of her.  But her walls had always gone back up no more than a few milliseconds after they'd shimmered out of existence.

More than he liked to admit, he imagined what his life would have looked like if things turned out differently.   _What if the conflicts hadn’t started back on in the Alpha Quadrant? What if his family hadn’t been murdered? What if he and Kathryn had just met at the Academy?  Would there still have been a spark between them? Or would they have lived in blissful ignorance of each other? If she had married Mark, would she have been happy? Would he have been? Perhaps in time, he thought, he would have gone back to Dorvan and taken up his father’s mantle. Maybe he would have married, had children_.  But all those scenarios that he had imagined of his life without Kathryn always seemed plain.  And he knew that if they had ever been reality, there would have been something missing. He would _always_ have dreamed of her.  

The freeway was comfortingly empty with the occasional red and yellow glow from a fellow traveller coming up behind them. He took the solitude to make his own study of her while she wasn't looking, but he should have known better than to think he could have evaded her.  

"What, Chakotay?" She turned to him and caught his eyes before he turned back to the road.  

"Nothing," He gave her _that_ smile.  "Just looking."  

"Hmm," She gave him an approvingly reproachful look.  "Eyes on the road,  _Commander."_

 _"Aye, Captain,"_ He laughed.  "No, I was just thinking."  

She turned her body towards him as comfortably as she could with the seatbelt in the way. “About?” 

“About you." 

Her voice was soft and breathy. “What about me?”  

“About seeing you so happy like you were tonight with Henry and Shannon.”

She reached over and took his right hand from the wheel and two lithe arms enveloped his muscled bicep before she slid her own hand down and twined their fingers together. “ _Thank you,_ ” She sighed as she kissed his shoulder before laying her head there. 

They sat in blissful, comfortable silence for most of the ride home. Townships came and past before the welcome sign for Arcadia reflected in the bright lights of the truck.

 _“Kathryn,_ ” Chakotay gingerly shrugged his shoulder, rousing her as he moved to take his other hand back and turn off the freeway at their exit. “ _Kathryn,_ wake up.  I need my arm back," He laughed and kissed the head on his shoulder.    

“Are we home?” She muttered.

He turned down onto a familiar road. "Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Chakotay,” She yawned. “I'd meant to keep you company- _oh!"_ She pinched the sore muscles of her neck that had rigoured in her slumber.  

“You were tired, and you _did_ ,” He turned down the high beams down as they passed Jan and Gregg’s home, careful not to wake them at the late hour.

She rubbed her eyes again as she tried to shake off the heavy weight of somnolence.

“Come on,” Chakotay parked and turned off the car. “Let’s get you to bed.” A mammoth yawn pried open his own jaws just as he unbuckled the seatbelt.

"Mm," She laughed and tumbled off the high rise of the truck.  "Let's go." 


	53. Chapter 53

Kathryn frowned as she ran her fingers through his soft hair. “It’s getting long.”

“I know. I’ll have to get it cut,“ He gave a grin. "Or I’m going to start looking like my grandfather.”

She pulled her sweater around her as the icy air howled outside the cabin.  “I’ll cut it for you.” 

“ _You_ know how to cut hair?” 

“Well, I’m _no expert,_ but I always cut my own.”

"Oh," He fingered wisps of auburn. “I always assumed you went to the holodeck.”

“Oh?” She looked up from her spot on his chest. “No. I did it.  Who did yours?”

“I always went to the holodeck. A few times B’Elanna tried, but it was always a _disaster._ ”

“When was that?” She tried and failed to hold in a laugh at the memory of his early hair style. 

“By the sound of it," His fingers tickled her side makes her squeal and push him away. "I think _you know!_ ”

“That’s also when you started _dyeing_ your greys,” She winked, still breathless as she angled her body from him.

He blushed and laughed heartily at that. “I hoped you hadn’t noticed that!”

“Oh Chakotay,” She became mock serious. "When are you ever going to learn that  _nothing_ slips past me?  Especially when you're concerned.”

“I missed your hair when you cut it," He told her after a moment. "One night you left the bridge with that ponytail and the next morning you strode down those steps with hair up to your _ears_!”

She laughed at the memory of seeing his face on that morning. “Your eyes _fell out_ of your head.  And you tried so hard not to say anything!” She did a passable impression of his voice and facial expression. “’ _Good, uh, good morning Capthryn, I meant… Captain. Ship’s status re-short! Port!_ ”

 _“Hey!_ ” He sniggered at the shared recollection. “I didn’t say _a word_. Not even in the ready room later on.”

“I know,” She patted his chest. “You showed so much restraint." 

“Uh huh,” He nodded. “I told you, I have the control of _a saint._ ”

"Well that we know for sure," She laughed again and laid her head back down on his chest. 

His fingers curled into lovingly disheveled auburn waves as he enjoyed the feel in his hands. “Grow it back," He asked softly

“It was heavy. And that bun took me nearly _twenty minutes!_ " She argued back, putting up a fight where there was none.  

“Then don’t put it up,” He jostled her.  "Keep it down.  Like you did on New Earth." 

“It makes me hot.”

“Well lucky for you," He pointed out.  "It's cold here.”

She frowned up at him.  

“Then cut it!” He grinned as he rolled her under him and propped himself over her. “You’re beautiful no matter how you wear it.”

“I’ll grow it out,” With a wickedly accustomed grin, she ran her finger along the notched bridge of his nose.

He laughed effusively as his warm weight settled on hers. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re _infuriating_ sometimes?”

" _No_ ," She smiled broadly and wriggled her hips against his. “Only you.”

His arm snaked under the covers and slid under her knee as he opened her to him.  An eager hand slipped under the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down as he mirrored her action, fumbling as he went. “We’ve really got to learn how to do slow and romantic,” He mumbled against her neck before impatiently nipping at the skin there.

“Well, You know what they say, don’t you?”

“No," He panted. "What?”

 _“Practice,”_ She gasped. 

“What about it?” He said against her open lips.  

She cried out at the sheer pleasure of being with him, of how he _knew_ her body so intuitively. Neither of them could last for very long.  But, then again, they never did.  And what had started swiftly was satisfying over just as soon.    

“We didn’t even get all of our clothes off,” She mumbled into his neck. 

“I know,” He kissed her neck before he rose up on his arm and looked down at her. “You’re still wearing your sweater.”

“So are you.”

He frowned.  “I feel like it’s going to take us a while to get to slow and romantic.”

“Well,” she reiterated with a grin. “You know what they say.”

“Something about practice?”

"Yes," She laughed and kissed that much-loved notched bridge.  "That it makes perfect." 

"Well then," He leaned down to kiss her again and left them both breathless.  "How about a _little more_ practice?"  


	54. Chapter 54

_“ Slowly, Chakotay,” He syllabled his name traditionally. “You’re going too fast!”_

_The young boy threw down the primitive tools and walked away. “What’s wrong with the way that I’m doing it?”_

_The older man smiled patiently as he walked around the large piece while he ran his hand over the rough, splintered surface. “Each cut of wood is unique, and each piece tells its own story,” He patiently explained. “And it’s the job of the carver to tell that story.”_

_He rolled his eyes, wiping his clammy brow in the sweltering heat. “It’s just a piece of wood.”_

_“No,” Kolopak shook his head, picking up the petulantly discarded tool as he handed it back to his son. “Now, slowly.”_

Chakotay smiled at the memory as he scrubbed the piece in front of him with the small segment of sandpaper, watching the calculated movements of his hands as they moved over the nubby surface. 

For a moment, he thought of the bathtub. He made it in secret, at a location hidden from her insatiable curiosity. It was large and unwieldy, so when he had finished all of the components, he had taken them back to the cabin one by one and assembled the monstrosity while she was out setting traps. Elation was the only word that described her features when he presented it to her. “ _Oh Chakotay. It’s perfect_.”  Then he remembered the headboard he'd made her for her mattress.“ _Almost as good as the bathtub_ ,” She'd laughed when she entered her room that evening.

He tried to remember back to the last time he had carved something since New Earth.  For a moment, his mind came up blank until he remembered Naomi's cradle. It had been the first time he’d created something of that sort.  Armed with a plain chunk of wood from an unnamed planet, he'd set himself to work before and after his duty shifts. Larger, more unwieldy, tools hollowed out the arid log and gave him a blueprint for the final structure. And once he was satisfied with the shape, he’d set to the rocking base. Rudimentary screws and hinges placed, he could see the final result coming together. For the last part, he'd set to carving small planets, the largest of which was Ktaris and her sun, which occupied one whole side. On the other half were planets that he’d taken note of during their time in the Delta Quadrant.

 _“What’s this_?” He hadn't seen her come in until that familiar voice shattered his reverie.  

 “A project,” His breath was heavy with effort.  

“Oh?” She looked at it.  “Is it a _secret_?”

“Yes,” He laughed. 

"Can I take a guess?" She gleamed.  

"Of course," He took off the heavy jacket revealing a soaked shirt underneath and, proudly, drawing a look from her.  

"Is it a bathtub?"  

"No," He shook his head with an amused grin curving shapely lips.  

“Shame,” she frowned. “I miss my old one.”

“One day,” He promised.  "Maybe." 

"Are you coming home soon?”

He let his gaze drop. "Yes," He picked up his jacket and followed her out of the barn. 

"Do you think," She took his hand as they made their way.  "That there will be a  _one day?"_

"I can't answer that, Kathryn."  

"I know," She nodded.  "I try not to think about it." 

"Me too," He drew her close as they went inside.  "Me too."  


	55. Chapter 55

“The World’s gone mad!” Jan huffed as she examined the large newspaper spread over the kitchen island. Resignedly, she set down her reading glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. “Gregg and I were out until almost three last night, can you believe it?”

Kathryn looked up from the papers she had in front of her as she took another sip of her coffee. “What happened?” 

“Well,” Jan turned around to the French press and brought it over to the island. “Refill?” 

Kathryn nodded as she held out her lukewarm beverage.

“We got nine new admissions so Gregg was tied up in the Emergency Room and I came down to help. It was a _mad house_! And on top of that, we’ve got a new group of students rotating with us and they were all out of sorts after they came from doing their women's health module.  _So_ , Kathryn,” She changed the subject. “What did you and Chakotay end up doing for Valentines Day? Gregg said Chakotay planned something.”

Kathryn smiled at the remembrance. “He took me down to Portage Creek to see the Millennium Gate.”

“Oh, that’s right! Gregg and I went a few years ago. It’s great isn’t it?”

“Fantastic,” Was the only word that came to mind, and even that didn’t do the excursion justice.

“So did you two just go for shopping and dinner?”

“Something like that. While we were there we met the owners of the mall’s only bookstore and they had us over for dinner with their family.”

“Well that was nice!” Jan smiled as she poured another drop of cream into her coffee. “It’s good that you were able to get out and meet some new people!”

“How about you? Did you and Gregg do anything?”

“Well," She started.  "Every year, Gregg has a huge bouquet of roses sent up to my office. I’m a _sucker_ for red roses! And then for dinner, the two of us usually make reservations at La Pomme in Bloomington. It's a treat to go up to the city and splurge a little. So,” She sighed happily and folded up the newspaper. “That’s what we ended up doing. Well, Kathryn,” Jan said after a moment as she bunched up the new paper and deposited it in the blue recycling bin in the corner. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Of course,” Kathryn nodded before she emptied her cup in the sink and washed it out. 

Jan turned back towards the foyer and waved Kathryn to follow.  “Follow me into the bedroom, will you? I’ve got to brush out my hair and put on makeup. Why is it that even after _forty years_ of working, I’m always running late in the morning? You think I’d have gotten my act together by now!” 

* * *

 

“Do you think it will stay like this until spring?” Chakotay and Gregg trod side by side through the wet mud on their way to the recreation building. The air this morning was warm, laden with the impending smells that spring always brought.

For the first time, Chakotay could discriminate the fine scent of freshly uncovered wet grass, that distinctive smell of damp tree bark, and the subtle the tanginess coming off the of the lake as the ice finally melted. The ground was a mess, coating their rubber boots in fresh mud. But it made him happy because it felt real.  

“Stay?” Gregg echoed, pondering the simple question. “Well I looked at the ten day forecast, and it’s supposed to warm up over the next week. Funny, because it’s not usually like this at the end of February. This is more of a late April day, just before we head into May. But,” He shrugged “We’ll see.  It would be nice it we had a break from the snow - we could get on these renovations a little sooner."

“That’s what I was thinking,” Chakotay agreed as they stepped into dormant building.

“It shouldn’t take too long, I don’t think.” Gregg brushed off his shoes and walked over the shellacked wooden floor to the far west wall.

Chakotay looked at the space around them, formulating ideas as he did so. “What can do is knock down this wall and that other one and replace them with glass.”

“Yeah,” Gregg turned and walked to the far wall. “That's a good idea.  This wall here faces the lake, so the kids and parents will get a great view while their doing activities or eating.”

“It’ll open the space more," He imagined. "Make it flow.”

“All right then," Gregg walked back to the centre of the space.   "We certainly have it in the budget to do that. And then we have to think about updating some of the cabins. We did half of them last year when outfitted them with new floors and these special air filtration systems.  Those worked out pretty well.”

They fell back into silence, scanning the room and imagining their new project. “ _Oh_ ,” Gregg took a look at his wrist. “Typical. I've got to get going! Jan and I have to be at work.”  They started their way back up to the house when Gregg spoke again.  "I think Jan is talking with Kathryn about it, but we had a little favour to ask the two of you."

"Sure," Chakotay nodded.  "What's it about?" 


	56. Chapter 56

“Well let us know by this evening," Jan told her as she ran out the door and foisted herself up into the truck.   "And then we’ll make plans.  _Greggory_!” Jan called out the truck’s window. 

 _“Okay!_ ” The older gentleman called back as the front door slammed and he hurriedly turned the lock.  _“I'm coming! I'm coming_!"  

Laughing, the younger couple waved goodbye as the truck sped down the long driveway.  "How they're never late is a mystery to me," Chakotay's shoulders shook in his amusement.  “What was that all about?"  

"Jan," Kathryn turned back towards the cabin.  "Asked me if we'd be willing to go to Boston for a camp fundraiser." 

"Boston?" He repeated.  "I've never been." 

"Neither have I," She told him.  “I told her we'd talk about it.”

"So, it's a fundraiser for the camp?" 

"Mm," She pulled the colourful booklet from her coat pocket.  "A national camp fundraiser where donors come and hear about different camps like this one and see if they'd potentially like to donate money." 

"What did you tell her?" 

"Well," Kathryn looked up at him.  "I told her that I would talk it over with you.  If we go, we have to be there by Friday." 

 _"This_ Friday?" Balked as he turned them towards the lake.  

"Mm," She nodded. 

"Well I have no objections," A boyish smile curved his lips. "I think it'd be fun to see what's outside of Indiana." 

"I knew you'd have no objections," Her hand hit him squarely on the chest with an accustomed laugh.  But I thought I would talk it over with you anyway." 

Their boots crunched over the uneven stones as they surveyed the scene in front of them. To their far right, an empty boat rack sat solemnly waiting for summer when it would holder canoes and kayaks. Chakotay released her as he bent down to retrieve a smooth spherical stone. He turned it once in his hand, admiring the plain greyness before he angled his body, cocked his wrist, and released it to watch it skip effortlessly across the surface of the water.

In mimicry, she bent down and picked up a random rock, trying to copy his stance and the movement of his wrist. Quickly, she threw the stone, but was disheartened when, instead of gliding like his did, it plonked brusquely into shallow water not far from the shoreline.“ _How_ did you do that?” 

“You’re doing it all wrong," His eyes searched the shoreline for another amenable stone. "It’s all in the posture, and the flick of your wrist.”

“Okay," She looked down absurdly. “So, what’s wrong with my posture?”

"Well," He turned his head sideways as he looked at her.  “Stick your butt out a little more.”

Obediently, Kathryn spread her feet shoulder length apart and stuck her bottom out just a little. “Like this?” 

"Uh," He stood back, admiring her under the guise of instruction. "A little more." 

She pushed her butt out a little more before she caught on and stood to full height. “You’re just looking at my _butt_ aren’t you?”

"Just taking advantage of a tactical opportunity, _Captain,"_ Big blinding dimples came out to defend his innocence as she rolled her eyes and took a lunge at him. 

“You’re _incorrigible_ , Chakotay!” She laughed fully with her amusement.  “Well are you going to show me how to skip these stones, or are you just going to stand there admiring my ass?”

“Well," He paused.   " _It is_ a nice ass- _Ow!”_ He rubbed his shoulder when she jestingly hit him again. “Okay, Okay! What you want to do," He bent down and sussed out another amenable rock. "Is get a flat stone.  The flatter the better. And then…” Finding one, he walked up behind her and placed it in her hand as he pulled her hips back against his. “Take your arm out like this..."  

"This?" She was barely paying attention to the stone.  

"Mmhmm," His breath on her neck wasn't encouraging any modicum of concentration. “And now keep your wrist cocked and then-"  He let go.  "Flick it."  

He stepped back, allowing her to throw the stone, watching it as it skipped twice and then fell in. “Hey!" She looked back to see his smile.  "I did it! So where did you learn to do that?”

He took her hand and meshed their fingers together as they walked back towards the camp. “When I was a boy, my sister and I used to see who could throw it the farthest at this lake near our village.”

“Where are we going?” She asked when they'd passed the cabin.   

“I want to show you the recreation centre,” He pointed to the large building in front of them. “Gregg and I made plans to knock down those two sides and add more space. Then, instead of putting wooden walls back up, we’re going to replace it with glass. Gregg said he knows a guy who hires college kids on their break.  So with Easter vacation coming up, we might be able to get this done sooner than we thought.” He finished satisfactorily.

“That’s wonderful,” She beamed as they stepped into the large hall.

Not having been to the centre yet, she was surprised by how large it was. The snow had prevented her from seeing most of the property, and only now was she actually realising how extensive it was. “The kitchen is just beyond there,” He pointed to two large steal doors off to the side. “And these are the walls we’re going to knock down.”

“That’ll be perfect," She imagined. "Right now you can’t even see the lake."  

“That’s what we were thinking."

"So," Kathryn took a seat on one of the benches that had been moved off to the side of the room.  "Boston?" 

"Yes," He huffed his excitement.  

"We'll be there for three days, Jan said.  We'll have to get evening wear." 

"Like a suit?" He cocked an eyebrow. 

"Like a suit," She confirmed.  "And a dress. An _evening dress._ " 

He sat back with an anticipatory grin. "I don't think I've ever seen you in an evening dress."  

She gave an exasperated look.  "I don't even remember the last time I _wore_ one!" 

"That makes two of us," He agreed. "I haven't worn a suit in  _years._ Maybe going on decades at this point," He shuddered.  

"Well," She glinted.  "You know what I always say.  We  _are_ explorers, after all."  


	57. Chapter 57

“I should have known!” Gregg laughed as he bent over and stoked the fire. “Weather like that just doesn’t seem to last around here.”

“Don’t worry," Jan sat back, nestled in the comfort of the large leather couch.  "It won’t last too much longer. The forecast for the weekend said it was supposed to warm up again.” 

“Mmm,” Kathryn gave a look. “Into the forties?”

“Hey,” Jan scolded. “Would you rather have the twenties?”

“Point taken."

“Well," Gregg sat back and crossed his arms behind his head.  "At least Boston is supposed to be snow-free for the next ten days.  You two can enjoy yourselves.  Jan and I were thinking that it'd be best for you two to go a day before and then maybe stay a day or two after,” He scratched his chin, his own stream of consciousness interrupting his train of through. “When was the last time we were in Boston, Honey?”

“Oh,” Jan thought on it. “It must have been about a year and a half ago around Christmas time. We went for the annual oncology conference.”

“You presented that year,” He picked up his wine glass and tilted it towards her. “’ _Holistic Approaches in Cancer Management_ ’, wasn’t it?”

“Good memory, Old man.” 

“That was a good trip” He smiled fondly. “Where did we stay, again?”

“I think it was the _Four Seasons_ ,” She yawned. “But we were being put up by the conference. I don’t think I would have paid for that if it was just us going.”

“No,” He shook his head, making an incredulous face. “But that room was _fantastic_! Remember how it look right out over the Commons?”

“Mmhm,” Jan took another sip of her wine. She looked over at Kathryn and reached for the invitation. “Which hotel are they recommending this year?”

Kathryn rifled through the small packet. “Some place called the Liberty Hotel,” She read. “Right next to _Massachusetts General Hospital."_

“MGH,” Gregg sighed. “ _Man’s Greatest Hospital_. Mike Fulton did his fellowship there.”

“Oh, did he?” Jan looked up. “I never knew that.”

“Who calls it Man’s Greatest Hospital?” Chakotay asked as he took the invitation from Jan.

“Well it’s sort of a running joke, but it is one of the most famous hospitals in the world. First place ether was ever used during surgery.”

“Ether?” Kathryn inquired.

“A type of anaesthetic. A dentist named Morton first displayed the use of the drug when he knocked Mr. Edward Abbott out, and then the dean of Harvard Medical School removed a tumour from Abbott’s neck. Up until that point, surgical anaesthetic had been crude,” Jan held up her wine glass to demonstrate. “ _Traditionally,_ patients would drink themselves into a stupor and then the surgery would be performed. _Can you imagine?!_ ”

“But, But!” Gregg smiled, holding up his hand to add drama to the story. “When Mr. Abbott woke up and was asked how he felt, he simply responded-“

“ _Fine. Feels as though my neck’s been scratched_!” Jan found endless amusement in the take. “We heard that story back in medical school and I thought it was a riot! But anyway back to the issue at hand. First of all you have to buy the tickets. I looked online today and if we’re lucky, within the past three hours prices won’t have gone up.”

“What were they going for, Honey?” Gregg inquired.

“Two sixty eight round trip for economy, so that’s not too bad.”

“Not at all. _So_ ,” He turned to Chakotay. “Book those tonight and use the camp’s business credit card. And what about the hotel?” He asked his wife. “Are they offering a promo at the Liberty?”

Chakotay looked down at the invite packet. “Says here forty percent off for Keystone Gala attendees.”

“Do they give a code?” Gregg leaned over, careful not the spill his beverage. “Should be on the bottom there.” He scanned the page and pointed. “Right there. Great, so why not? It’ll be a nice getaway,” He winked.

“I think you have to book the hotel through the hotel’s website,” Jan added. “So do that tonight when you get back.”

“Alright,” Kathryn nodded her head.

“Which airport?” Chakotay asked to Kathryn's bewilderment. “Bloomington is only regional. Should we fly out of Indianapolis?”

“Good point,” Gregg nodded. “Jan and I usually fly out of Indianapolis because it’s a lot less hassle. Tickets will be cheaper, too. You’ll have to drive up and just park in extended-stay parking. I think that’s what we did, right honey?”

“Uh huh,” Jan nodded. “And the last thing,” She looked over at Kathryn with a knowing smile. “Don't forget the dress and tux." 

“And put all of it on the account,” Gregg interjected. “We can get a tax write off for it that way.”

“Well," Jan gave a yawn. "I think that covers it. Let us know tomorrow if you’ve gotten everything settled.”

Chakotay rose from the couch and gave his hand to Kathryn, pulling her up as well. "We'll let you know how we get on tomorrow morning." 

“Great,” Gregg stretched. “Goodnight you two.”

 

She cringed as she sat back in the chair and calculated the trip’s costs.  “You don’t really appreciate the value of money until you have to use it.”

“I know,” He leaned back, mentally tallying the costs they were racking up. “On Monday we’ll have to leave here at four in the morning to make it up to Indianapolis. If we get there at six thirty, that’ll give us plenty of time to check in.”

“How do you know all this _lingo_?” She laughed.

“I read it on the page.”He grinned.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d have done all of this before.”

“Sadly, no,” He chuckled. “But I am excited to ride on an airplane. Tom Paris would be _green_ with envy.”

“Oh," She laughed through a yawn and the recollection of their friend. " Tom would _love_ this!” 

The yawn was contagious. “We’ve gotten soft,” He said as he rubbed tired eyes.  

“Mmm, remember the days where we _never_ slept?”

He slouched in the wooden chair as he folded one leg over the other. “Remember when _three hours_ was a luxury?”

She nodded, yawning again. “And now three hours seems like some sort of injustice.  Even the _thought_ of it makes me yawn!”

“Well,” He shut the computer and got up. “Bed?”

“Bed,” She agreed as she stretched and rubbed her eyes before getting up out of her seat and following him into their room.


	58. Chapter 58

“You’re _sure_  you know how to do this?” 

“I’m sure.”

He turned back to look at her for the hundredth time. “Okay. But _remember,_ not too short.”

“I know!” She laughed, forcing his head straight. “Now sit still, Chakotay. _That’s an order_!”  His shoulders went rigid when he heard her make the first cut. " _Relax! Y_ ou’re as rigid as a cadet about to go before the review board!”

“Did you get the suitcases from Jan this morning?” 

“Mmm,” She nodded as another lock of raven hair fell onto the floor. “And a bag for the computer and file folders.”

“Do we need anything in town? It’ll be our last chance to get anything before tomorrow.”

"Well, I don't," Her mind was busy on her task.  

“How does it look?”

"If you keep fidgeting it’s going to look _worse_ than when B’Elanna did it.” After a moment, she bent down and kissed his temple. “It looks fine, Chakotay! Like it did a month ago before it started dipping down into your eyes."  

“My tux is in the closet.” He mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so personally violated as when I got measured for it.”

"I'm just excited to see how it looks," She teased, brushing the hair off his neck.  She had no idea what a tuxedo looked like as the fashions now were so different than what she was used to. 

"Did you get a dress?”

“Uh huh," She nodded her head towards the bedroom. “It’s in the closet hanging next to your suit in a black garment bag. Jan and I found one on sale when we went into town yesterday.”

“What does it look like?”

“It’s a _surprise_ ,” She tortured. "You're all set." 

With a bolt, he got up and headed towards their bathroom. “I’m almost afraid to look!”

She chuckled, heading over to the corner to find the dustpan. 

 _“Not bad_ ,” She heard a smile in his voice. “ _Kathryn Janeway, you really are a jack of all trades._ ”

“Not so sure about that,” She smiled up at him as he came back into the room while she swept the hair off the floor. “But you do look back to your usual self.”

"Thank you," Chakotay gleamed at her as he walked over into the small kitchen area to start their dinner. “Did you print off the tickets?”

“They’re in my purse along with our licenses,” Her voice strained as she reached for the last visible piece of hair and emptied the conglomerate into the waste bin.

“Do you want salad tonight?” He called over his shoulder as he peered into the fridge.

“Do we have lettuce?”

“A bit left; we might as well eat it up before we leave.”

“Might as well," She looked on at him with a wry smirk. "But you’re not going to ask _me_ to make it are you?” .

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He laughed.  "By the way, what's with all the paper?”

"I got an email this morning from Shannon with the work she wanted me to look over.  Remember? I had nearly hoped she'd forgotten."  

“Have you looked at it yet?” 

“I printed it off while you were in town this morning and started taking a look at it. Her work _is_ advanced beyond what would have imagined. But," She breathed a plaintive sigh. "By all rights I shouldn't even be doing this.  But-" 

"Well, it can't hurt to look." 

"If there's _one_ phrase that's gotten us into trouble more times than I can count...“

She saw his shoulder shake in laughter over the clangour he was making with dinner. "Too many." 

She rubbed her eyes. “On another note, Jan and Gregg put us on their phone plan. But I _insisted_ that we pay the fee for the new phones and whatever charges we make”

“Is that what the bag in the corner is?” 

“I haven’t opened them yet.”

“We’ll take a look at them later on. Do you want pasta?”

“No. But if you want some, make it. I’ll probably just end up eating off your plate anyway.  We have to pack after dinner.” 

“I’ll make the pasta,” He snorted, catching a glance at her looking at him. “What?” He asked softly, seeing something thoughtful in her eyes.

“Nothing," She shook her head and turned back to the pile in front of her. "Make the pasta,” She winked.  


	59. Chapter 59

He was out of bed even before the early alarm.  Running through the mental checklist of things in his small carry on, he meandered into the shower and started the hot water.   Aboard the ship, he'd missed the simple pleasure of standing under the hot stream, irrespective of rations or metres.  There was an excited haste to his movements as a keening anticipation flooded the atmosphere around him.  Like a little boy waiting for Christmas, so he'd been counting down the minutes to their excursion.  

She was still sleeping when he stepped into the bedroom.  For a moment he was contented to watch her as he slipped on his jeans and sweater.  But when she showed no signs of wakefulness, he made the grudging decision to wake her.  

 _“Kathryn_ ,” He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “ _Wake up_.”

She mumbled and turned away from him.   _“Five more minutes.”_

 _"No,"_ He laughed and tugged on the blanket.  "Now."  

" _Just five_ ," She bargained.  

 _“Kathryn_ ,” he entreated.

_"Three, then."_

_"_ Okay, three," He told her, leaving the bedside to rummage in his things before coming back. “ _Kathryn_?" 

“Two  _more minutes, Chakotay.”_

"No," And then with one quick movement, he pulled back the sheets, exposing her nakedness to the cold room air. 

With a start, she shot up at the sensation of the unwelcome cold. _“Ugh!_ ” Kathryn glared at him through tired eyes. “You are _pure evil_ , Chakotay!” 

“You weren’t getting up!” He laughed from the foot of the bed. "Now get dressed, we have to leave for the airport in thirty five minutes."  

"Do I have time for a shower?" 

"Only if you're quick."  

"I'll be quick," She yawned as the door closed behind her.  

He shivered as he walked out into the frigid morning air that was indeed so cold that he thought his damp hair might _freeze_ to his head. New ice made the short walk to the truck slippery as he tugged the stiff door open and placed their suitcases and garment bags into the back seat before turning back to the cabin.  “You’re done already?” He said when she appeared in the doorway halfway dressed.  

She smirked as she sauntered out wrapped in a towel. “You seem to forget that I used to have _less_ time than this to shower and get ready on Voyager.”

“I _didn’_ t forget,” He corrected, admiring her in the low light. “I was just never there to see it.”

She laughed at that, her joy momentarily muffled by the thick sweater.  "You weren't missing much. Ready?” 

He nodded as he helped her into her coat before shrugging on his own. “Do you have everything?”

“Uh huh," She hurried over to the chair with her purse before turning back.  "Shall we, _Commander_?”

He held opened the front door and motioned forward. “After you, _Captain_.”


	60. Chapter 60

The sheer darkness at the morning hour reminded her of space, she thought.  Now so accustomed to the diurnal change of light, she had nearly forgotten what it was like to work in virtual darkness round the clock. Even the roads were barren at this time, bar the few lonely fellow travellers travelling alongside them. 

 _“Aha!_ ” She erupted amid a yawn as she read the reflective road signs in the headlights.

Chakotay looked around in all three mirrors trying to spot the physical source of her epiphany. “What?” 

“Noblesville,” She pointed to the exit sign just ahead of them. “My father took me there when I was about six years old.”

“What was in Noblesville,” He asked her through a yawn  

“The Belfry Theatre,” Her amusement grew at the memory. “They were having a showing of Swan Lake."  

He tried to muffle his laughter but failed when he remembered her own rendition of the infamous dance on Voyager’s first Talent Night. “ _The Dying Swan_ , Kathryn?”

“The very one!” She doubled over in laughter. “From the second the play ended and _all_ the way home, I _begged_ my father to sign me up for ballet classes."

“You must have been the star student, because your rendition was _definitely_ the highlight of Voyager’s Talent Evening,” He remembered. 

"I still remember the look on your face," She chuckled. " _Total shock_." 

"No," He whispered.  "I couldn't take my eyes off you." 

“We never did get to see your talent, Chakotay," She remembered.  "But then we stopped having Talent Night,” 

“Things changed so quickly after that,"  There was a sadness to his voice at the memory.  

“Yes,” Kathryn admitted mournfully as she kissed the warm hand that tightly clasped hers. "A lot of things changed." 

He shifted in his seat, changing the subject. “We should be nearly there.”

“Only twelve miles, according to the last sign.  You know, I've never been to Indianapolis before." 

"No?" 

"No," She shook her head, giving one last yawn as the day started to wake and the sun poked through the obsidian firmament.  "I kept to Bloomington." 

He spotted the sign for the airport and indicated to change lanes. “Was it a big city?”

“Bloomington? It was big enough,” Kathryn shrugged. “But not as big as Indianapolis." 

“When we get back we'll spend a day,” He promised.

"Why not," She smiled.  "I've heard they have a wonderful art museum." 

"Okay," He took the next turn to the airport. “Keep your eye out for Terminal E and long term parking.”

“Well,” She unfastened her seatbelt and turned to him. “Plane leaves in two hours at eight, we’re in Boston at around ten. I called the hotel and check-in isn’t until two. But they said we can leave our bags if we wanted and they would leave them in our room.  So we could do a little sight seeing?"  

“Let's do,” He winked. "I don't think we'll be sitting ducks in a city like Boston." 

“Likely not,” She winked.

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she pulled the handle from the suitcase and looked around. “Terminal E,” She read the sign and pointed. “That way.”

He followed with his own suitcase and the garment bags draped on his arm.“Remember where we’re parked.” 

She looked back and him with a grin. “If we left it to you, we’d be here for days searching for the car!”

“I’m not even going to try for a comeback for that one." 

Two large automatic glass doors opened for them as they scurried in out of the biting cold wind. The terminal was light and open as they looked around for the ticket desk they would check in. “Can I help you?” The petite blonde at the airline counter smiled as she looked up from her computer.

“We’re here to check in for our flight to Boston at eight,” Kathryn replied, still moderately unsure of herself in unfamiliar circumstances.

“Of course,” the young woman replied cheerfully. “I’ll just need your licenses and your booking confirmation.”

“Will you be checking in any luggage today?”

“We just have these two small suitcases, this bag,” Chakotay pointed to Kathryn’s leather messenger bag before he held up the arm with their outfits. “And these two garment bags.”

“Okay," She said sweetly. "I’m going to suggest that you check the two suitcases only because you can’t take three personal items with you on board. Is that all right?"

"That's fine," Chakotay gave his best impression of facility as he moved the suitcases onto the conveyor.  

"All right," She smiled at them and handed their tickets back.  "Security is down the hall.  They should be boarding now if you'd like to go through."

"Okay," Kathryn turned back, looking for where they were to go. 

"Just right down the hall, Ma'am," The young girl pointed.  

"Thank you," Chakotay nodded.  

"Not at all," She gleamed.  "Have a nice flight." 


	61. Chapter 61

Kathryn looked on with delight at all the activity, but there was _one front_ that caught her attention and immediately drew her in. Amid _all the smells_ piquantly wafting and mingling in the recycled air, _this_ one in particular caught her fancy. Dark, bold, and rich, she could taste its chocolate notes before she even had a cup in her hand.

He’d seen that face before, and knew its origin as his eyes traced her sight’s trajectory. “ _Starbucks_ , Kathryn?”

She nodded her head as she led him to the green and white coloured storefront. In the absence of a line, she decisively ordered herself what she deemed the largest cup of black coffee she had ever seen.  Handing the cash over to the woman behind the counter, he smiled when he looked down to see that the cup of coffee was _indeed_ larger than her own head.

 _“Oh,”_  She breathed, the cup cradled possessively between her palms. “That’s good.”

“Better than the coffee maker?” He winked.  

Unresponsive, she ignored his question in favour of another sip of coffee.  "Now," She looked up. "Where are we going?”

“Terminal A," He remembered from the ticket. "Gate nine. That way."

“It’s not all that different,” She mused as she swallowed another quaff of acrid black coffee.

“What’s not all that different?” He watched as she glanced in all directions around them.

“This,” She motioned. “I mean that compared to shuttle terminals and way stations back in San Francisco. This isn’t all that different.”

"Oh," He thought for a moment.  "No.  Not too different." 

“Here’s gate one,” She mumbled to herself as they traversed the long corridor in search of their gate.

“Gate nine,” He pointed down a little ways. “Boston.”

“Some people are _already_ lined up,” She looked up, perplexed. “And here I thought we were early.”

"Not too," His attention was caught as he looked out the window at the large planes trolleyed on the runway.  "I've only ever seen one in a museum." 

“They’re breathtaking,” She admired the large engines and sleek bodies. Though technologically inferior to anything in her time, there was an understated elegance to them. And the feedback relays that formed the foundations were beautiful in their basic convolution.

For a moment, she thought of B’Elanna and how much fun she would have mucking around with the parts on these leviathans. Tom would get a kick out of it too. Chakotay was similarly floored. Not an engineer, he was looking at these modern marvels from a historian’s perspective.

_“Boarding flight four nine five seven to Boston will begin at gate nine.”_

“Well?” She grinned as butterflies took flight in her stomach. “Shall we?”

The seats on the plane were grotesquely miniature, he thought as he sat down, his long legs brushing up uncomfortably against the seat in front of him. “Yes, well,” She gave him a sympathetic look. “It seems some things don’t change.  Civilian transport is and will alway be uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” He smiled plaintively as he struggled to gain some modicum of comfort in the small seat. “The flight isn’t long.”

She smiled crookedly and leaned up to kiss his cheek, “Nothing ever dampens your spirits, Chakotay.”

He took her hand and angled his body to look out her window. “I was thinking that Tom Paris would be green with envy right now.”

“Mmm, I was just thinking how much fun B’Elanna would have with those engines,” She pointed.

“We wouldn’t see her for _days!_ ” He laughed. 

The pilot sounded over the intercom as the plane began to taxi.   _What a strange sensation,_ she thought. 

“A little bumpy," He said.  

Underneath them the plane rumbled as its speed increased. Kathryn angled her head to look in front of them at the long stretch of runway down which they charged like a bull in a prise fight. It was thrilling, she thought, to feel the speed so organically without the protection of the inertial dampeners.

Chakotay leaned back in his chair as the craft tilted upward and made the transition from ground to air. She turned her head to meet his eyes and smiled as the plane dipped, making their stomachs flop, before it readjusted its course. 

_She settled back and together they watched the clouds pass._ _"And we're off."_


	62. Chapter 62

Kathryn looked up from the pile of papers in her lap as squirmed in her seat, twisting and turning backwards and to the sides, scanning expectantly.

“Coffee catching up with you?”

Kathryn’s classic glare came out in all of its glory before she capitulated to the humour of the situation. “I’m about to _explode_!”

“There’s a bathroom up in front there,” He pointed.

 _“Oh, thank god_ ,” She shoved the pile of papers into his waiting hands and quickly undid the seatbelt to stumble over him in her vigour. 

He laughed as he caught her waist and stabilised her as she tripped over his long legs. “Easy there, bronco.” Even during a red alert, Chakotay had never seen her move so fast as he saw her now weaving her way up the aisle. 

In her absence, Chakotay examined the sheets of paper in his lap.  Admittedly, he wasn’t much of an engineer. Though he excelled in it at the Academy, he only remembered enough to be useful.

She sighed as she climbed over him again.“ _So_  much better.”

“I can get up, you know.” 

“I know,” Kathryn bent over him and kissed him quickly before plopping back into her seat. “But it’s so much more _fun_ this way.”

He laughed quietly. "How did I never realise how much of a flirt you are?" 

She just glinted in response and made a face.  

"While you were gone, I had a look at Shannon's work," Chakotay inched back in the seat and tried to make himself comfortable again. “What if we rearranged this equation right here,” He pointed to the pages in her lap and took the pen from her, simplifying the second equation. 

Kathryn looked on dumbfounded as she made the mental calculation. “I think that might work. How did you know to do that?”

“Just a hunch,” He shrugged, handing the pen back to her.

_“A hunch?”_

“Uh huh.” He gave her a simple stare.  

 _“Chakotay_ ," She turned from him back to the page. "I’ve been staring at this for an hour now and you just came up with the solution on _a hunch_?”

“Maybe all you needed was a fresh set of eyes,” He kissed her cheek to absolve himself.  

She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, not once taking her eyes off of him. “What did you get in Admiral Corcoran’s fourth year engineering class?”

He shook his head, laughing and hoping to avoid this inquisition. “I’m not telling you Kathryn.”  Corcoran's class was the one every fourth year cadet struggled with it.  What he would never tell her is that he got an A.  

“Why?” She grinned.

“Because," He wriggled in the seat again.   _"You_ are hopelessly competitive."  

"Oh," She squared her shoulders indignantly.  "You think you did better than me?"   

"No," He shook his head and looked forward, trying to keep the smirk off his face.  "We're not doing this." 

“You got an A," She pursed her lips and shook her head.  "Didn’t you, Chakotay.”

"I'm not saying a word, Kathryn." 

“Dammit, Chakotay, there’s only one cadet every year who get’s an A in Corcoran’s class! Even _I_ didn’t get an A!”

 _“Kath-ryn_ ,” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter."  

“I can’t believe it,” She pouted.

 _“Kathryn_ ,” he ran long brown fingers through her burnished hair. “What does it matter now?”

“It doesn’t.  I just can’t believe it. You graduated with a higher grade point average than I did, didn’t you?”

He genuinely rolled his eyes.  “Kathryn, you graduated with honours."

"So did you," She countered.  

“You really are the _most_ competitive woman I’ve ever met."  

She ignored the comment. “Well?” 

He turned himself to regard her full on.  “Do you really want to know?”

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't," She told him.  

“Fine," He breathed.  "Three point nine eight." 

"Damn you," She bit the inside of her cheek.  "Three point nine seven."  

"Not much of a difference," He laughed.  "Are you happy now?" 

“No," She smiled and handed him back the stack of papers..  "Well, what other _tricks_ do you have up your sleeve?” 

“None,” He shrugged. “That’s as far as my expertise goes."

“I don’t believe you,” She told him as he took her hand in his. “But thank you.”

 _“We’re beginning our descent into Boston Logan airport,"_ The pilot’s warm voice came over the intercom.  

“Boston,” Kathryn turned to look out the view. "I can’t believe we’re going to be in Boston in a few minutes. I was thinking, we should go see Harvard yard when we get in.”

“Harvard,” He breathed. “I've only read about it.” 

The plane started to dip lower and lower in the atmosphere and bright, blinding sun shined through the window as the harbour came into view. “ _There it is_ ,” She whispered.

 _“Cabin crew_ ,” They heard the pilot say.  " _Prepare for landing."_


	63. Chapter 63

_“Chakotay,_ let me take the bag!”

He adjusted the leather sac on his shoulder with the two garment bags thrown over his arm and his suitcase trailing behind him. “It weighs _twice_ as much as you do!”

“It does _not!_ " She argued back as they made their way out the terminal.  

“I’ll be fine, Kathryn,” They more sounded like a married couple than former Starfleet officers. And for the moment,  that made him smile because this was what he always wanted with her - a real life together.  “ _Now,_ ” They stopped and looked around the terminal for the exit where they could hail a cab.  

Kathryn pointed to a set of automatic doors that led to a curb where taxis were line up and waiting expectantly.“There. Those look like cabs. _I think..._ "  

A gush of polar wind met them as they walked out the doors. “It’s almost as cold as _Indiana_!” She balked, and with her free hand pulled the zipper up on her coat.

He shivered, holding the door of the first cab they came across open for her.“At least there’s no snow!” 

“ _Don’t bet on that one fah too long!_ ” The older man in the front seat of the cab answered brashly as he hopped out, eager to help his customers with their luggage. “You can put that in the trunk!”

“Thank you,” Chakotay smiled at the man as he quickly put everything in its place.  

“All set?” The cabbie gruffly slammed down the trunk door. “It’s _fuckin’ freezin’_ out _he-ah_!”

“That it is,” Chakotay agreed as he hurried into the backseat where Kathryn was sitting.

The older gentleman rubbed his hands together and blew into them as he turned up the heat to compensate for the temporary loss.“Now, _whe-ah_ you two goin’?” 

“The Liberty Hotel,” Kathryn answered.

“This _yah_ first time in _Boston_?” The older man looked back at the new strangers expectantly. 

“Yes,” Chakotay's kind eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

“Business, _ah_ vacation?”

“A little bit of both,” Kathryn smiled as the cab descended into blackness as it passed into the long tunnel.

“Hotel’s not too fa-ah from _he-ah_ ,” He pointed as they re-emerged from the tunnel and back into the bright mid morning light. “Right behind MGH.”

“So _this_ is MGH,” Kathryn smiled as she looked at the large building to their left.

“Yup, Man’s Greatest Hospital!” The cabbie reiterated the widely held colloquialism as he nodded and pointed over across the harbor. “And _ov-ah the-ah's_ MIT.”

Kathryn immediately thought of Shannon.  This was her alma mater and what she would have seen every day when she was a young girl. “Well," The car made a turn and was before they knew it they had arrived.  " _He-ah_ we _ah_ ,” He stopped the car at the main entry and pressed a button on his dashboard. “Ten fifty, please.”

Chakotay reached in his pocket to produce the change. “Thank you, sir.”

“It was my _pleas-ah_. Now,” He climbed out of the car to help them with their luggage.  _“Ah_ you two all right from _he-ah_?”

“Fine,” Chakotay nodded as he snatched up the bag before Kathryn could take it. “Thank you again, sir.”

“Enjoy Boston, you two.”


	64. Chapter 64

He looked her up and down as she worked the buttons on her peacoat."And you're _sure_  you're going to be warm enough?"

 _"Yes,_ " She gave him that grin and rolled her eyes as they headed out the lobby and through the automatic revolving doors. "Stop nagging so much."

His hand found the small of her back as they headed out the lobby.  _"I can't help it._ "

"Old habits die hard?" She laughed as the cold air embraced them again.

 _"Some,_ " He told her. "Never die."

"The concierge said the red line was located about a five-minute walk from here."

He pointed not far from their current location to a compact red panelled train running on an overpass. "Is that it?"

"I think so," There was a skip in her step as they made their way to the overpass.

 _"Right_ ," Chakotay protracted as they stood in front of the booth,perplexed and baffled by the options for train tickets.

"Well," She turned her head and scrolled through the frustratingly slow and nonresponsive touch screen.

"Three day pass?" He pointed in question.

She nodded, pressing hard down on the monitor before it sluggishly moved them into the next category.

"Definitely  _not_  seniors," He chuckled as he selected the option for adults.

"The verdict's still out on that one!" She teased and fed the credit card into the machine to make the payment.

"I resent that."

 _"Oh_ ,  _Chakotay,_ " From the platform they could see the panoramic view of the city with the bright winter sun glinting off tall, glass buildings. " _Look,_ " A white sailboat that stood out in contrast to the deep navy blue of the harbour. A serene smile lit his face as he watched the sleek craft move effortlessly in the choppy water while her pristine white sails billowed proudly in the cool stream. "I hear the train," Kathryn leaned forward, peaking down the tracks towards the source of the noise.

It was rudimentary,  _quaint,_  Kathryn thought as they took their seats. There were discarded newspapers on the floor and on empty seats with crude marker graffiti on the widows, and old coffee cups rolling noisily under the benches. He enjoyed jerkiness of the ride, the grating feel of the metal grinding against metal as the train made its way along well-worn tracks. "We're next," He whispered, holding his hand out to her and tugging her up.

The train came to a stop, causing her to fall into him as his hand braced around her waist which steadied and prevented them from toppling under the strain of inertia. In the station, Kathryn was hit with was the smell of coffee, donuts, popcorn, pastry anything and  _everything_. It was all mingled in the recycled warm air as they passed amid throngs of people making their hurried way between train stops. Finally, they made their way out of the station and again into the cold winter's day.

"So this is it?" He grinned as his eyes once again readjusted to the bright sunlight.

"That it is," Kathryn took his hand and turned to the sound of a man playing the clarinet who was surrounded by a throng of people amusedly listening and leaving money.

"I think that's Harvard Yard," He pointed to a tall brick wall covered in the bare remnants of vines as he tugged her forward.

"Excited, Chakotay?" She smiled, shuffling to keep up.

"I have read about Harvard in every American history book," He laughed as he slowed his pace through the wrought iron gate. "Excited doesn't even begin to describe it."

 _"Oh my_ ," The green was vast and teeming with young students going to and fro between classes, dorms, eateries...

"Brings you back, doesn't it?" He curled their fingers together and tugged her a little closer.

"To the Academy?"

He nodded.

"It certainly does," Kathryn look on at the teeming crowds of young people. They were just beginning their lives, figuring out  _who_  they were,  _what_  they wanted to do. A whole universe of opportunity was just beyond the precipice waiting for them.

Amid the cold seeping through both their jackets, they began to saunter slowly, taking in the history and the chance to witness something significant that had been forgotten in their own timeline. "Have you ever wondered," Chakotay started. "What would have happened if we had just _met_  back at the Academy?"

She smiled up at him, using her free hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun."You and I?"

"Mmm," He nodded, smiling down at her.

"Once or twice," Kathryn indulged. "Sometimes I wonder why we didn't." 

"And?" He goaded.

"And what?"

"Do you think anything would have happened?"

She cocked one side of her lips in that famous half smile."You wouldn't have liked me."

"Oh?"

"No," She laughed. "Not at all."

"And why's that?"

"I was too competitive," She winked, taking him back to the incident on the plane.

"I wasn't."

" _That_ ," She nudged his side. "I know. You're too _good_."

"If you say so."

"It's hard to be here and not think about it," She gestured with her free hand. "All these great minds, what they  _produced!"_

"I know," Chakotay breathed it in. All of it - the history, the  _very_  air.

"It's a shame it was lost," He reflected sadly.

"I know."

"Hey," He tugged on her hand and squeezed her fingers lightly. "Let's not think about it."

Kathryn stopped in front of a large building on the central property. "The library."

"Well," He gave a nod. "Should we take a look?"


	65. Chapter 65

"You know," She took another piece of bread, buttering it liberally.  "I've always wondered what kind of professor you were. Somehow I just can't see it." 

He laughed. "Should I be offended?"

"No," She smiled broadly.  "That wasn't what I meant.  You're just not the stodgy type."

"So all professors are stodgy?" He was barely able to control his own amusement.  

"That's not what I meant," She kicked his foot under the table.  "You're just too damn young." 

"Youngest tactics instructor at the Academy," He puffed out his chest.  "Not that I'm bragging." 

"You?" She covered her mouth as she laughed through a bolus of warm roll.  "Never. I bet you were popular with all the young, impressionable cadets." 

"Come to think of it," He remembered.  "There was a waiting list." 

"No doubt," She winked.  "All women, too." 

"Some male," He defended with a barely concealed flush.  "But now that you mention it..." 

Her only response was more laughter.  "I knew it."  

Their repartee was short lived after their meals were placed in front of them. “ _Oh_ ,” Kathryn eyed his dish hungrily. "That looks good." 

He knew the line well by now as he tilted his plate towards her. “Do you want some?”

She reached across with her fork in hand and took a piece. “ _Mm!_ That _is_ good.”

“What did you get again?” His own fork reciprocally found her plate.

“I don’t know," She tucked in enthusiastically.  "Something called eggplant carbonara. Italian is always a good choice.  Did you ever go to that place on the promenade, what was it called?“

“Rosso?” He offered before taking another bite of his meal.

“That’s it!”

“Once,” He swallowed as a cheeky smile crept onto his features.

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “I sense a story there.”

He cringed at the memory of that evening that he’d tried so hard to forget. “One of the most  _disastrous_  dates of my life!” 

“Who with?” She laughed, trying to picture the scenario.

“No one you would know,” He pointed at her with his fork before digging into her dish.

“Try me."

“Honestly, I really don’t remember her name. It was a blind date during my second year. My roommate at the time was an absolutely notorious party-goer and was shockingly dismayed by my lack of c _onquests,"_ He glinted. "So he set me up with his girl friend’s roommate.”

“So, what was horrible about it?” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “It should have been fine. She was a nice girl, but we had nothing in common and I couldn’t think of a thing to say.“

"Did you ever run into her again?”

“No. What about you, did you date much at the Academy?”

She swallowed her drink of water. “Not at all.”

“Single focus?” He goaded.

“Like a laser beam,” She nodded. "Well I did go on one date but it didn’t go anywhere. We met for coffee once and that was it.”

“What about Justin? Where did you meet him?”

“We were assigned together on our first command. But," Her mien turned solemn. "It didn't last too long before he died." 

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Kathryn.” 

“I _am_ sorry he died, but I’m not sorry that we didn’t get married. Everything happened too fast. And when I look back I believe that things wouldn’t have lasted if we had gotten married. There was too much competition between us. We both wanted to be the best and I couldn’t see either of us compromising.”

He nodded and changed the subject to more pleasant matters. "Thank you for today.  It was wonderful." 

“We did have a good time, didn’t we?”

“The best,” Grandiose dimples came from their shallow pools.  

* * *

 

She sat back, looking on at the carnage that was their leftover dinner. “I'm absolutely _stuffed._ I haven’t eaten that much in a long time.”

“Me neither,” He hiccupped. “You might have to roll me back to the hotel.”

Kathryn nodded towards the door as she shrugged her coat on. “Should we make our way?”

He nodded in agreement. “Tomorrow morning we should go over the presentation.”

 _“Tomorrow_ ,” She said with a pointed look. “I’m ready to call it a night!”

“I know,” He yawned. “What’s happened to us?”

“We’re getting old,” She laughed. “But I know what you mean.  Aboard the ship I never let myself be tired. I can’t even remember when I let myself _yawn_."

“We’re _not_ getting old,” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the station. "We never will." 


	66. Chapter 66

“Coffee?” He held up the carafe between them over breakfast.

She put her hand over her coffee cup, mouth occupied with a piece of toast. " _MmMm."_

He sat back and looked at her critically. “Are you feeling okay?” Automatically his hand went up to feel her forehead.

“You’re such a mother hen, Chakotay,” She caught his hand, laughing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

“I'm _fine,”_   Kathryn glared.  

“Will you tell me if something is wrong?”

“Yes!” She rolled her eyes. “Now eat your breakfast so we can go over this stack of papers.  And maybe later I can get that _fresh set_ of eyes again on Shannon's work."

"I’m telling you that was just a one time sort of thing. Didn’t you ever wonder why B’Elanna never let me near her engine room?”

“I sense another story there."

“It was nothing,” He remembered. “Just one time on my old Maquis ship, I tried changing a sensor relay.”

“And?” She goaded.

“I blew them all out!" He laughed. " _Every. single. one. of. them_. I put them in all wrong."  

“Oh, Chakotay!” She laughed, picturing the whole ordeal. “B’Elanna likely wanted _your head!_ ”

“She did,” He confirmed. "I thought she was going to rip it off and drink blood wine from it.”

_“Charming."_

“It’s the truth.”

“I miss her,” Kathryn sighed after a moment’s thought of the young engineer.

“I know. I miss her too.” He took her hand. “She was a good friend.”

“I regret not getting closer to her. I always considered her my friend, but I never _really_ talked with her, or took the time to get to know her like I should have.”

“You did the best you could," He breathed. "We all did.”

“I know. But sometimes it still doesn’t feel that way. I think back and wonder if there were things that I could have done differently.  Especially with the crew." 

“The crew loved you, Kathryn. All of them. I’ve never seen a crew more loyal their captain.”

“Loyalty is one thing. But still...”

 _“Kathryn_ , they understood why you were the way that you were. And no one thought less of you for it. Most crews don’t even know their captain, or have their love.  You _inspired_ them and gave them confidence.”

She looked at him sheepishly, blushing at his kind words.  " _Thank you_ , Chakotay." 

With one final bite of her toast, she pushed her plate away and meandered over their pile of belongings in the corner.  "I like these robes," He told her as he watched her go. 

The comment made her laugh. "I suspect that has less to do with the material than the fact that we're naked under them." 

"Probably," He got up and followed her.  

 _"Chakotay,"_ She gave him a look with the computer in her hands as his hands worked lazily at the closure of the terry covering. "That _wasn't_ an invitation."

"Oh," His features were purposefully innocent as he took the computer from her hands and placed it on the table.  "Well, now that the suggestion is out in the open..."

With one last tug the material fell open to his eyes and he admired her in the bright morning light streaming through the windows.  "Have I ever told you," Hands on the bare skin of her delicate waist, he paused as the closure of his own garment was similarly untied by nimble and eager fingers.  "That you _are,_ without a doubt, the _most beautiful woman_ I have ever seen."  

She gave him a big grin and rolled her eyes.  "If you were saying that to convince me to make love to you, then you've wasted your breath."

 _"That's not_ ," His hands tangled in her hair as she leaned up to kiss him.   _"Why I said it._ "   


	67. Chapter 67

_"What time do speakers have to be downstairs at again_?" He called over the strong and steady current.

Focused on her task, she answered him automatically. "I think the handout said six." 

Ensconced in the whirl of her musings as she absentmindedly ran the comb through her shoulder length hair, she hardly noticed him get out of the shower until a wet arm caught her around the waist. "What are you thinking about?" He whispered, planting a wet open kiss on her neck.

She smiled as she examined the two of them in the mirror. "Nothing particularly interesting." 

"These are new," He fingered the fine fabric of her underwear.

"I bought them for the trip," She said. "I needed a bra without straps to wear with the dress."

"They're nice," He laid another kiss along the delicate lines of her clavicles. " _Very nice_."

"Don't get too used to them," She laughed at how his lips tickled the delicate skin above her collarbone. "They were over the one dollar mark. So, I'm afraid that once we go back home, it's back to plain white cottons."

"You're outstanding in whatever you wear." 

 _"Hey!"_ Feeling a familiar prodding her her lower back, she reached behind and pushed at him.

Sly fingers moved under black lace. _"Just once."_

"Absolutely not!" Again she slapped at wandering hands. "When has it ever been _just once_ , Chakotay?"

"Come on," He finagled with another opened mouth kiss behind her ear. "I promise I'll be quick."

 _"No,"_ she turned quickly  in his arm and gave him a good shove in the direction of the door. "I have to do my hair and makeup and we have to be downstairs for cocktail hour all in forty five minutes." 

"Oh _come on_ , Kathryn!" He pleaded laughingly as the large wooden door shut in his face.

He could still hear the muffled laughter in her voice as the lock clicked in verification. " _Go get dressed, Chakotay!"_

* * *

 

  _"Chakotay?_ " He heard her call from the bathroom. " _Are you there?"_

"No," He called from the bedroom. "I left an hour ago."

 _"Oh, very funny,_ " The scent of perfume wafted to meet him. "I need help with the zipper on my dress, do you mind?"

She was elegantly bedecked in a dark green gown that swept the floor with her hair was twisted familiarly as soft curls fell around her face and framed her features. Quite simply, she was stunning. " _Wow, uh- Wow._ " Was all he could come up with as he stood, dumbfounded at the scene that greeted him.   

"Please?" She whispered, turning her bare back to him.

Tentative fingers approached the closure and easily slid the small metal piece up the rest of the way. "You look _absolutely beautiful_ , Kathryn." He turned her around to face him again and gently kissed her forehead, careful not to ruin her makeup.

"Well," She eyed him up and down. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He caught the time on the clock near the bed. "We're nearly late."

"Better watch it," She kissed the soft skin of his lips, unable to help herself.  "Soon we'll be turning into Jan and Gregg." 


	68. Chapter 68

A keen observer of people, Chakotay sat back and surveyed the crowd from his spectator’s seat. The sumptuous dinner in front of them forgotten for the time being, and phones put back in their pockets, every single member of the audience was entranced by her.  After dinner, he watched as Kathryn canvassed the room, at ease with her assumed role and their purpose here. She smiled fetchingly, laughed at pithy jokes, and made polite conversation. Older men with fat chequebooks wanted to dance with her, women wanted to talk with her, and younger men lustfully vied from the sidelines.  She was a force of nature, something he had always known.  But to see her here, in _this_ element, was something else entirely.  And for a moment he though _this_ was the high life she belonged to.  Not, his shoulders sagged, being a camp manager in Indiana living off a budget.  

 _“Well, hello,”_ Extra champagne glass in hand, a tall blonde stepped in front of him, obscuring his view. “Looking for a refill?” 

“Uh,” He shook his head awkwardly. “No, I’m fine for now. Thanks.”

She tilted her head and downed the last of her own glass before setting it down on a low-lying table and starting on the extra. “Do you come to these events often?

“No,” He smiled while keeping Kathryn in his field of view. "First time."

The woman's eyes were glued to him. “So, where are you from?” 

“Indiana,” He replied, turning his attention to her in realisation of his frank discourtesy. “Yourself?”

“Boston,” She glinted. “Local girl.”

“Oh," He nodded appreciatively. "This is our first time in Boston.”

"How are you liking it?" Asked the sultry voice.

"It's amazing," He told her honestly. "To be surrounded by so much history." 

She laughed at that.  "It's always nice to hear a tourist's perspective.  You get a little bored of it when you live here." 

"Do you work in the city?" 

“I’m a hospital administrator,” Her body language changed as she took another sip of champagne. “Down on Longwood.”

“Oh," He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say.  "I'm not ashamed to say that I don't know where that is." 

She chuckled again.  "It's not a tourist hot spot _unless_ you're in the medical field.  We see a good few kids with cancer every year,” The blonde sobered, leaning in closer to him. “It’s heartbreaking.”

“It is,” He agreed. "This is our first year with the camp, but already it's been hard to go through the applicants."  

"I'm sure," Lithe fingers found their way onto his arm just as he felt another set of eyes on him. "I'm _so sorry."_

He looked down at the unwelcome gesture, pulling away slightly, and tried to change the subject.  “Does the hospital fund camps like ours?”

“We do have room in our budget. _Hey, listen_ ,” She leaned into him, the alcohol emboldening her. “ _Do you want to get out of here_?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well,” The look her her face was positively predatory. “My place isn’t far from here, do you maybe _want to…?”_

“Oh!" He sobered, stepping away from her.  “No, no. I’m with someone.”

“Oh?” She recoiled.  "Where's your date?"  

 _“There you are,_ ” A familiar voice blessedly rescued him as a lithely possessive arm stole its way around his waist. “I’ve been looking _all over_ for you!”

“Oh!” The Blonde’s posture changed immediately. “You’re Kathryn Janeway from _Camp Adventure_?”

“Yes,” Kathryn demurred politically. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Samantha James,” She held out her hand. “My group was extremely impressed with your presentation. You can expect to hear more from us in the coming months. My colleagues and I are very interested in starting up an affiliation."  

“Well,” Kathryn smiled as she opened her clutch to produce one of the camp’s business cards. “It would be our privilege.”

“You can be sure to hear from us,” Her eyes met Chakotay's and gave him a look. “Well I’d better be going. Have a good evening.”

Kathryn watched until she moved out of earshot. “Another blonde, Chakotay?”

“I had nothing to do with it.  And if you want, I’ll tell you _all_ about it.  But _later,_ ” He whispered as he led her onto the crowded dance floor. “For right now, it seems to me that I’m the only one who’s not had a dance with the _most beautiful woma_ n in the room.”

Her laugh resonated as they joined the other couples dancing to the soft jazz.  "Smooth, Chakotay.   _Very_ smooth." 

"I've been watching you all night," He drew her body closer to his while his hand slid low on her bare back. _“You’re outstanding”_

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so.”

“So are you going tell me what that was about?” 

“Not right now," He shushed her quietly, revelling in the feeling of holding her in his arms and having the liberty to do so after so long. "Right now, I just want to dance with you.”


	69. Chapter 69

_"Chakotay,"_  She nudged him from a light sleep. They would be landing in Indianapolis twenty minutes.  _"Chakotay_ , _wake up._ We're almost home."

Home.

She had used the word what must have been a thousand times or more over the last six years.  _Home_  had been her driving goal, the prise for which she had forfeited any shred of happiness in the quest to attain. But what she had realised over the past few months was that home was a completely subjective concept. Before she left Earth, home was a staid existence as Captain Kath Johnson. After her first year in the Delta Quadrant, home had shifted an amorphous meaning of safe harbour in the arms of loved ones so far away. And then, after months of complacency on an isolated planet, home came to mean a polycarbonate shelter on the edge of a forest. But after New Earth, home once again came to mean that blue planet where maybe, after so many years, she could finally find rest. Now, however, home was something entirely different.

 _"Chakotay,"_  She nudged him again as the plane dipped and swooped, making her stomach catch.

With a deep breath he groggily came to. "Are we home?"

"Just about."

"We have to find the car," He rubbed his eyes.

She smiled, "I remember where it is."

Bleary eyed, he admired the view out the small window at the puzzle-pieced view of the land. He never remembered seeing anything like this when he flew shuttles over Earth, with wide stretches of field laying bare and fallow. How strange that in only a few months time he had come to think of this vast land as his home. But, Chakotay never understood the concept of home before. Once he had asked his father why  _he_  was so adamant about staying on Dorvan. It was just a planet, he thought - just soil and water. There was nothing special those two entities, as ubiquitous as they were throughout the galaxy. Kolopak had paused initially before answering the question. " _Home,"_  He'd let the word roll off his tongue. _"Is something you keep coming back to. It is a place without which your wanderings are meaningless."_

Kolopak's home was Dorvan and for a long time he had pined for Chakotay to think of it that way as well. But the backwater planet held no pull. For a while, Chakotay had tried to make San Francisco his home. But the warm seasons and moist air similarly meant nothing to him no matter how ardently he tried to make them. In the Maquis he had no time for dwell on the concept of home or refuge. For the time, the simple concept had no meaning for him when all he breathed was revenge and hatred. He thought he'd found a home on Voyager. Grey walls and a smattering of personal items had meant something for a time. But he kept trying to make home a physical place with with substance, be it ground or floor, bulkheads or trees. Now, though, for the first time, he realised what Kolopak meant. He realised that without  _her_ , his wanderings were meaningless. Where ever Kathryn was, was where he found home.

He turned to her in that moment, just as the plane was coming to land. "Hey."

"Hey," She smiled at him.

"How are you feeling?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Fine."

"Are you sure?" He pressed in face of her pallor and visible exhaustion on her face. "You didn't eat this morning."

"No," She leaned her head back agains the seat. "I'm fine."


	70. Chapter 70

"Kathryn," From the drivers seat, he reached across the console to take her hand.  For the last hour she had been in and out of sleep.  From the corner of his eye, he would watch as the cycle started out predictably; she would fall asleep with her head upright and then wake swiftly just as her chin dropped to her chest.  And so the process would repeat itself.  

Frustrated, she gave up the pretence and sat up straight in the chair.  "Sorry," She yawned.  "I don't know why I'm so tired." 

"It isn't a crime," He glanced with a smile.  "And you deserve it after the other night." 

"Maybe it's six and a half years of red alerts catching up with me," She yawned again.  "I should be keeping you company." 

"You are," He told her.  "I think Jan and Gregg will be happy with the money we've raised." 

"Mm," She agreed. "Over two hundred thousand dollars." 

"More if Children's decides to donate.  I don't know how the two of them did it in their free time." 

"Can you imagine?" She yawned again.  "We used to lead a starship through the Delta Quadrant and this still makes me tired." 

"It's a different life," He breathed before the crux of his quandary rose.  "Are you sure you're all right?"

Dependably, she rolled her eyes.  " _Chakotay, I'm-"_

"Fine.  I know.  You're always fine."  

"Well I am," She leaned over the console and kissed his temple.  "Just a little tired." 

"You've been losing weight, Kathryn," He glowered.  "You're not eating." 

 _"I am,_ " She argued back.  "And so have you. These last few months haven't been easy and there's been a lot going on." 

"I know," He looked to her again.  "But you know that I worry about you." 

"Well  _stop,"_ She grinned, running her fingers through the scant white on his temples.  "You're going to get more greys than you already have." 

"Would you tell me," He asked.  "Would you tell me if something was wrong." 

"Of course I would." 

"You don't need to be brave anymore," He told her.  "I know you needed to on Voyager and you couldn't let me in.  But now it's different." 

"I know," She whispered into the stillness just as familiar surroundings started to appear.  "But it's not always easy to let go." 

"Why do you have to think of our relationship as _letting go?"_  He tried to take the accusation and scant hurt out of his voice. _"_ Why can't it just be trying something new."  

"I'm trying," She said.  "Chakotay, this is new to me." 

"You've been engaged before, Kathryn," He looked at her.  "This can't be _that_ new." 

The comment stung for a moment.  "This wasn't how it was with Mark," She argued.  "I didn't _need_  him," Her voice tripped over itself. " Not like I find myself needing you.  I didn't- you  _know_ it was different. And sometimes _this_ it scares the hell out of me." 

"What, us?" He switched lanes, putting on his blinker to take the exit for Arcadia.  

"Yes," She rubbed her eyes again.  "Us, Chakotay." 

"Why," He whispered.  "Why does it scare you?" 

"Because," Her shoulders dropped in admission. "I'm afraid I'll lose myself in you.  Maybe I have already." 

The car turned onto the long driveway, past Jan and Gregg's empty house before he stopped in front of their cabin.  "I've always needed you, Kathryn.  More than I want to admit to anyone or myself, even to you.  But maybe it's not so bad." 

She turned to him fully as she unbuckled her seatbelt.  "No?" Her voice was uncertain. 

"No," He did the same as he took her hand again and tangled their fingers and studied them together.  "Well, I don't think so. I don't mind needing you or being afraid to admit it." 

"I kept myself separate from Mark because I knew he wasn't who I wanted. And for a long time, I'd resigned myself to that being all there was.  But then," She looked up at him.  "There was you and suddenly all I wanted was you." 

 _"Oh Kathryn,_ " With his free hand he traced the highlights of her face.  "Loving you was _never_ a weakness.  And that love gave me more hope than you could ever imagine.  It made those unbearable days worth it because it gave me something real to hold on to.  It still does."

One tear made a salty path down her cheek. "I'm sorry I made you wait." 

"Don't be," He kissed her forehead before pulling back and opening the door.  "Now come on, let's go in rest.  Later on we'll go talk to Jan and Gregg."

"But," She interrupted as she stepped down from the rise.  "We have-"

" _Rest,_ Kathryn," He came around to her side of the car and retook her hand.  "Or haven't you been in the car for the last two hours?" 

"Well," She leaned into him as they walked towards their small home.  "Now that you mention it, a nap _doesn't_ sound so bad."  

A soft laugh escaped him as he closed the door behind him and led them into the bedroom.  " _Oh the words I never thought I'd hear from Captain Janeway."_


	71. Chapter 71

She looked to the end of the bed at the suitcases lined against the wall.  "If we don't unpack this now, we never will." 

"We're going to have to," He laughed. "Half our clothes are in there." 

"That's right," She yawned. "It's nice, isn't it? Sometimes..." 

"What's nice?" He took her hand and pulled her down onto the bed with him.  

"Not having so many things," She lay her head down on his chest.  "Living simply." 

He laughed at that.  "I never had much.  You should have seen my quarters at the Academy." 

"You weren't the decorating type?" She looked up at him.  "I seem to remember a few tribal prints in your quarters on Voyager." 

"What?" He smiled.  "A medicine wheel and a blanket?" 

"Point taken," She chuckled.  " _Goodness_ , I'm tired." 

"Do you want something to eat?" 

"No," She shook her head against his chest and stifled another yawn.  "Maybe later." 

"Do you want to sleep?" 

"Maybe," She held him closer.  "For now I just want to lay here."

"I watched you last night," He said to break the silence as he remembered the way she looked in that dress with her hair done up.  

"I know," She smiled.  "You always watch me."

The truth of his words roiled in his stomach.  "You belong in that life, Kathryn. That's where you're meant to be."

She propped herself on one arm to look at him.  "What are you saying, Chakotay?"

"I don't know," He turned his body towards her.  "You don't belong here.  You didn't even belong on Voyager.  You belong somewhere-" Chakotay let out a long breath.  "Where you can be admired."

Kathryn looked at him sideways.  "I don't need to be admired," She whispered.  

"You don't belong here with me," Again, his fingers traced her features, memorising them.  

"I don't need to be admired," She said again.  "And I want to be with you.  I _belong_ with you.   _To_ you." 

A wet smile stole his features.  "I never thought-"

"Then I'm a good actor," She leaned down to taste the relief falling down his cheeks.  

"I don't want you to be unhappy, Kathryn," He breathed.  "You deserve so much more than that - than what you had for six years.  You deserve more than this."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation as she let her forehead fall against his.  "What do I have to say or do to convince you that I'm happy here with you? I only wish that things were different.  I wish that we hadn't left so many people behind, _lost,_ because of a decision that I made.  And I wish there weren't so many unknowns to out lives here.  I wish we had answers." 

"I know," He kissed her again as she lay back down on his chest.  "Kathryn?"  

"Hm?" 

"Did you ever think about what would have happened to us when we got home?" 

"To the crew," She clarified.  "Or you and I?" 

"You and I." 

"Yes," She replied. "Always." 

"Is that why you invited me for dinner the night before we attempted the transwarp conduit?" 

"Yes," She whispered.  "I thought that going back to the Alpha Quadrant would be a new beginning for us." 

"And," His fingers combed through her hair.  "What did you think would happen when we got back to the Alpha Quadrant?" 

"I don't know," She shrugged against him.  "I didn't really think it through back then.  I was so focused on getting home, the possibility that you and I could start a life together and getting the crews back to their families that I hadn't thought through the ramifications of what going home might really mean."

"To the Maquis, you mean."

"Yes," Kathryn nodded.

"Do you think they won't be welcomed?" There was apprehension in his voice.  

"Now?" She asked rhetorically.  "Now I don't know.  There's no reason why they shouldn't be.  Based on  the transmissions we had received from Starfleet, I think there's a chance they will be now that the war is over.  But I don't know."

"You weren't going to turn us over," It wasn't a question.  

"Of course I wasn't," Kathryn looked up at him.  "I never would have."  

"And," He turned the conversation back.  "In all your thoughts of us, and getting back to Earth, what did you think would happen?"

"Well," She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes as he pulled the blanket over them.  "I thought we'd finally talk."

He pulled her tighter against his body, feeling her go heavy in drowsiness.  "What else?"

"Well then we would make love," A huge grin spread over her features.  

"Uh huh," He leered proudly.  "And then?"

"Then I don't know."  

He barely thought before the next words tumbled out.  "Did you think we would get married?"

She froze as she moved slowly to look at his eyes, her body rigid.   _"What?"_  

"Well," He asked her seriously.  "Did you?"  


	72. Chapter 72

For the moment she was frozen, incapable of speech or thought.  

_Did she think of marrying him?_

Yes. of course she did.  

But never had she said the words to herself.  Always that particular reverie remained an unspoken taboo.  A relative concept rather than tangible reality.  If she was completely honest with herself, she knew that if they had continued as they had been for the rest of the way home Chakotay would have moved on.  Turned by her cold bitterness, he would have invariably grown tired of waiting for her and taken the chance at finding happiness with someone on the ship, or perhaps a congenial passerby. _But oh how she had wanted him!_ And _more_ than simply _just_ her lover.  

In the hummed silence of her quarters, she used to imagine a life for them one day.  A life free from the burden of command where she was free to love and be loved by him.  She imagined children, and a house. Happiness and laughter.  She dreamed of more than just flashes of delight of forced moments of happiness.  She wanted him always and without contraction. 

In silence that lay between them, the lines on his face moulded into wrinkles of apprehension.  Perhaps he had said _too_ much _too_ fast, and pushed her _too_ far.  And the longer she waited, the more his heart sank visibly with the possibility that he had.  " _Oh_ ," He gave a miserable pass at a grin and moved to get off the bed. "You're right, uh, well maybe we should get unpacked. I, uh-"     

"Chakotay," An arm stopped him before he could leave.  " _Wait."_

 _"Kathryn_ ," He put his hand up in uncertainty.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

Her voice was soft and low, "You didn't let me answer your question."

He gave her a wan grin in the settling light of the afternoon sky.  "It's all right, Kathryn, you don't have to say anything.  I was stupid and I shouldn't have said that.  I was... careless." 

He had gone to move away again but she pulled him back.  " _Hey_ ," She gave that crooked grin.  "You keep running away before I get a chance to answer."  

He sat fully on the bed and squared his shoulders, "Okay."   

Now it was her turn to look shy. "I was _going_ to say that  _yes,_ I have."  

And it was as though the sun had come out from behind their grey curtain when he smiled at her.  "You have?" 

"Yes," She nodded joyfully.  "I don't think I ever said the words to myself, or thought beyond the concept. But I'd always hoped that one day it would be a possibility for us."

"Really?" That smile couldn't let up.  

She laughed at his boyish mirth, _"Yes._ "

"And," He cleared his throat.  "And what about now, do you still think about it?"

Kathryn gave him a long look before she moved closer to him on the bed and gave him _that_ smile.  "What do _you_ think?"   


	73. Chapter 73

Chakotay looked away from her, a little shy and still in disbelief.  "I thought, well..." He cleared his throat and tried to find the words he wanted to say.  "I didn't think." 

"It's not your fault," She raised her hand and had her fingers along the height of his cheekbones.  "For a long time we both gave up hope of being anything more than friends.  But now-"

"Now?"  

 _"Now,"_ She let her hand fall down onto his leg and her fingers traced the muscle she felt underneath.  "There doesn't seem a reason to wait anymore." 

"You mean because Voyager isn't coming back for us," It wasn't a question. 

 _"No_ ," She met his eyes again with an honesty that hadn't been there before.  " _Not_ because Voyager isn't coming back." 

But his heart still sank in the face of his own vicious machination. "If we were still on Voyager we wouldn't even be having this discussion," He argued.  

"No," She kept her voice calm in the face of her raising ire.  "But we're _not on_ Voyager, Chakotay." 

"I just," He grappled with how to say what he wanted to convey.  "I don't want you to settle, Kathryn."

Irritated, she rubbed her eyes and stifled a groan.  But in his insistence he continued, "I don't have anything to offer you, Kathryn.  When you were engaged to Justin and Mark, they both had _something_ to offer: jobs, homes, _some_  future! And even if we had gotten back to Earth in our time, I _still wouldn't_ have been able to give you _anything_."  In a moment his whole body language changed.  His shoulders stooped and his face fell from what before was tentative happiness, now to total dejection.  "And I don't want to be someone you settle for because I'm the only man  _on a planet,_ or the only one who knows the truth about us."  

His voice had taken on a tone she had never heard before and what was seconds before annoyance transformed into heartbreak.  "Chakotay," Finger under his chin, she moved his gaze to hers once more as she tried for a half smile.  "Has _anyone_ ever told you that you're  _infuriating_ sometimes?" 

He gave a slight shake of his head and a hint of a smile.  "Only you."  

" _I don't_ want to marry you because you have something to offer me," She smirked.  "This _isn't_ the _eighteenth century_!  I want to marry you because I love you and I want to spend my life with you, for however long that is.  And on New Earth, I didn't fall in love with you because you were the only other person.  I fell in love with you because  _it was you._ And now," She took a deep breath.  "I want to marry you _not_ because we're not going back to Voyager and I feel I have to settle, but because  _I want to. W_ hat we _have_ deserves that honour. Okay?"  

He stared at her for a long moment, absorbing the beauty of her words before he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.  " _Thank you,"_ Was all he could say, and all he could feel.  

She wriggled out of his arms, pushing him away only slightly to give him a sly grin.  "You know I never considered myself traditional," Her tone was rife with tired amusement.  "But if we're going to do this-"

Before she was halfway finished he was already standing and drawing her to her feet.   _"Shh,_ " He glinted, giving her one quick kiss on her lips to silence her.  "Stand here."  

So, beside their bed they stood face to face and toe to toe, but only for a second before he fell to one knee in front of her.  " _Kathryn Janeway_ ," The smile on his face hurt it was so grandiose.  

Her grin mirrored his as it threatened to split her face in two.   _"Yes, Chakotay_?"

"Will you," He paused, so excited he could barely get the words out.  " _Marry_ me?"  

"Well," She toyed with him.  "What about the ring?" 

" _Kathryn,"_ If it was possible, that smile grew even larger. "I'll buy you one." 

"I don't _want_ one," She laughed.  "I just like making you sweat."  

"Well?" He returned her laughter.  

She looked around and feigned sweet innocence as she tried to control her gales of laughter.  "Well, _what_?" 

" _Kathryn,"_ His knees crunched.  

In one quick movement she dropped down in front of him before cradling his precious face in her palms.   _"Yes,_ Chakotay," She kissed his cheek and lingered over his skin.  "Yes, I'll marry you. Will _you_ marry _me_?"  

He laughed at that as he pulled at her waist.  " _Yes_ ," He touched his lips to hers.  "I will."   


	74. Chapter 74

Gregg’s fork abruptly hit the plate with a loud clang. " _How much?"_

Mouth full of pie, Chakotay smiled ebulliently at the woman next to him.  "We didn't want to tell you over the phone," She chuckled at their reactions.  "We thought it would be better in person."   

“I'm sorry,” Gregg still struggled to regain his sanity in the midst of the the digit-induced mental frenzy. “Did you say two  _hundred thousand_ dollars?"  

"And that's without Children's," Chakotay beamed.  

Still baffled, Jan pushed her dessert out of the way and leaned forward in her chair. _“How_ did you do it?” 

“It was all Kathryn,” Chakotay proudly breathed. “She gave the presentation and charmed the crowd.  She was outstanding.”

Gregg scraped the last of the cherry compote-vanilla ice-cream colostrum off his plate and savoured the last of the sweet, creamy flavour. “Apparently so! I'm still in shock.  I don't think we've ever raised that much money."  

"You two are miracle workers,” Jan corroborated. “Gregg and I _never_ could have done that!”

“It was out pleasure, Jan,” Kathryn responded softly. "Thank _you_ for the trip." 

Jan took her friend's hand and looked to the younger man across from them.  "You two did a remarkable job and we're incredibly grateful.  Now," She changed the topic with a cunning grin.  "I want to hear all the details.  How was Boston?  What did you two end up doing?"  

"Well," Chakotay cleared his throat.  "A lot." 

"He wanted to see  _everything,"_ Kathryn gleamed.  "So we did." 

"We saw Harvard yard and poked around the library.  And then we saw a little bit of Cambridge-" 

"Odd place," Gregg smiled at his own memory.  "A bit like parts of Los Angeles." 

The couple smiled at one another, remembering when they'd gawked at a much similar cadre of people in a time not too distant from this one.  "I'll say," Kathryn held her laughter at the memory.  "And then we saw MIT." 

"And did part of the Freedom Trail," Chakotay added.  

"Did you end up at Old North Church?" Jan asked, remembering her own excursion not too long ago.  

"We did," he gave a nod. 

"If you two had more time, it would have been worthwhile to go and see the Concord green," Gregg told them.  "That's our favourite place in Massachusetts, isn't it Jan?" 

"Concord is lovely," The older woman sighed. "If we had money enough for a second house it would be in Concord." 

"Massachusetts is such a beautiful state," Gregg harkened.  "I wish we'd have done a fellowship there or something when we were younger." 

"Seattle wasn't so bad," Jan replied.  "But you're right, _nothing_ compared to Massachusetts." 

"We certainly enjoyed it," Kathryn yawned.  

"Well if you stay on you'll certainly be going back next year.  And then you'll _have to go see-_ " Jan copied her gesture.  "Concord. Oh, _I'm tired!_ " 

"It must be going around," Chakotay collected the plates from the table.  "Kathryn and I have both been a little sluggish this morning since we left the city." 

"Thank you," Gregg mimicked his wife's yawn as Chakotay took the plates away. "Chakotay you don't have to do that."  

"Oh," Kathryn caught his eye from where he stood at the sink before she looked back at their two friends.  "Chakotay and I have some news of our own to share."

Jan and Gregg looked on expectantly before Jan bubbled, "I have a feeling I know what this is about."  

"We're engaged," Kathryn looked up at the man behind her.  "Just this morning."   

Jan's hands flew to her mouth in jubilee as a squeak of excitement escaped her.  " _Oh!"_

"Congratulations, you two," Gregg laughed in exultation as he got up to shake his friend's hand.  "It's about time." 

Jan wrapped Kathryn in a great hug. "I'm so happy for you, Kathryn! You too, Chakotay," She similarly embraced him.  "Both of you."  

Leaning against the chair Gregg looked on at them.  "You know for a while we thought you were pregnant." 

The words ran through Kathryn like an electric bolt, leaving her with a sharp pang of forlorn.  "That's what I thought," Jan laughed.  "But we're so happy for you." 

"Pregnant," Kathryn let the word roll of her tongue.  "No," She shook her head sadly.  "No we're not pregnant." 

"Kathryn?" Jan took her arm.  "Did I say something wrong?" 

She felt Chakotay's reassuring hand on her back and she gave a smile to cover her own moment of anguish.  "Of course not, Jan," Something like a laugh escaped her.  "Of course not. No." 

"Oh, Kathryn," Jan hugged her again.  "I didn't mean to imply that this isn't the most wonderful news that we've heard.  Gregg and I have been vying for you two to come to your senses since that night we found you! _Congratulations,_ " She whispered into her hair.    

"Well," With another yawn he took Kathryn's hand. "It's been a long day for the both of us."

"Mm," Kathryn looked at her two friend's gratefully.  "I think we're going to call it a night."

Not for the first time Jan noticed her pallor and exhaustion.  "Are you feeling all right, Kathryn?" 

"Me?" Kathryn gave a wry huff and looked at the man next to her.  "You must be channeling Chakotay. I'm fine.  Just a little under the weather." 

"Probably from the flight," She kissed her cheek before Chakotay's.  "Goodnight you two." 

"And congratulations again," Gregg said as they opened the door.  "This has been a night of wonderful news." 

"We'll talk more in the morning," Jan said to Kathryn.  "Come by in the morning for coffee." 

"I will," Kathryn nodded with yet another yawn. "Like I always do," She winked.  "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, you two."   


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of you leaving Kudos and comments. You are lovely, and they all warm my heart so much!

He curled into warm space just as his arm moved out on instinct to draw her close.  On any other night he would have found her, twined his arm tightly around her waist, and buried his nose in the crook of her neck before he fell back to sleep.  But, tonight unlike other times, his arm came into abrupt contact with quickly cooling, empty sheets. _"Kathryn?"_ He mumbled, his tired eyes flickering open to look for her.  And that was when he noticed the lights seeping out from under the bathroom door accompanied by the faint sound of the bathroom sink running.   _"Kathryn?_ " Stumbling out of bed, he knocked on the bathroom door.   _"_ Kathryn? Are you all right?"  

He heard her tired voice from the other side, _"I'll be right out, Chakotay._ " 

Unconvinced, he jiggled the knob and found the door unlocked, gently pushing it open. His heart sank when he saw her disheveled and ghostly pale, bent over the porcelain bowl. _"Oh, Kathryn,"_  He breathed as he lowered himself to the cold tile floor just as another pang of nausea rolled through her stomach, forcing another retch clear mucous into the bowl. 

 _"I'm fine._ "

Chakotay held her hair and flushed away the last meagre contents of her stomach. "You're _not_ ," He gently contradicted while laying a gentle kiss to her forehead while he let her rest. "What do you want to do?"  

She rubbed her tired eyes. "I want to go back to bed. What time is it?"

He stood and helped her to her feet. "Almost gone half four in the morning."

 _"Oh,"_  She nodded. "I'm sorry, I woke you."

"Don't be," He soothed. "Wait here."

He returned a moment later with a cold glass of water. "Here, drink this." 

Kathryn drained the glass hungrily, surprised at how thirsty she was, before making her way back onto the mattress. 

"Kathryn, I know you don't like my _mother henning,_ but something's wrong."

"I know," She nodded resignedly and pointed towards the closet. "I was going to get out the tricorder before I had to vomit."

"I'll just go get it."    

The metallic instrument felt strange to hold again as he activated it. Having been a few months since he used one properly, it took a moment's pause to reorient himself with how to use the technology.  

"I've never felt this sick like this," Kathryn said nervously as he ran the device over her. "Maybe..." She tried to remember.  "When we came in contact with the Relativity a year ago and I came down with a case of space sickness. But not since."

He examined the read out with an exacting focus. But after a few moments' heavy silence, he looked up completely perplexed. "It says here you're perfectly healthy, bar..." He looked back down and read the screen.  "Low blood sugar and a mild iron-deficiency anaemia."

"What?" She tilted forward, confused that the results were in total incongruity with her symptoms. "Did you adjust it to viral parameters?"

He nodded. "Yes. Viral, bacterial, fungal, prion… _everything_."

_"And?"_

"And nothing," He shrugged disconcertedly and scanned her again.

She began to fidget nervously. Tricorders were programmed to detect almost any illness, even those that had been eradicated and, even in _this_ time, considered downright _primordial!_  

 _"Wait,_ " He hesitated, noticing a small flashing yellow light in the bottom right. "I've never seen this before."

"What?" She took the device from him.  

"That," He pointed.  "There in the yellow.  What does that mean?"  

With nimble fingers she manipulated the buttons to elucidate the unusually bizarre flashing symbol. "I've never see-" She stopped suddenly, face drained of what little colour it retained as her hands tonically released the device causing it to crash loudly onto the wood floor.

 _"Kathryn?"_ A deep panic panged his gut. "What is it?" In the span of the few scant milliseconds that it was taking her to respond, his mind rampantly conjured all an array of desperately distressing scenarios. "Kathryn, if you're sick we'll do whatever we can.  We'll deal with it. Just _please_ ," He prayed.  _"Tell me."_

A shaking hand came up to cover her mouth and a whimper escaped her lips. " _Oh, Chakotay,_ " Her voice broke as she shook her head as she valiantly tried, but miserably failed, to hold back another round of tears.  _"I'm pregnant._ "


	76. Chapter 76

He sat rooted to the spot, eyes dumbly fixed on a nondescript point on the floor that was highlighted by the hazy light of the early dawn. " _Pregnant,_ " He let the sweet word linger while he savoured its meaning.   

"Oh god," She wept as the incongruous feelings of helplessness and wonder whorled around her like a hurricane. " _I'm so sorry._ "

For a moment the only sound that permeated the stillness was her own crying. "Say _something_ , Chakotay," Despair littered her syllables. " _Please_ say something."

It took another aliquot of time before his expressive eyes met hers in the light of the early morning. But still, he said nothing. And in the absence of spoken word, he tentatively closed the small distance between them and raised his hands up from the ground to gesticulate indefinably in the space between them while he searched for _something_ to convey what he felt. Finding nothing though, he simply reached forward to lift the hem of her soft T-shirt to gently cradle the flattened plateau of her lower abdomen. " _Pregnant_ ," He whispered again. 

Just for this moment he forgot where they were.  He forgot about their past and all the dismal things that could be in the future.  And instead, the world around him singled into the small invisible life just under his fingertips that warmly lay in its mother's womb, blithely sleeping through the sensational vicissitudes of divinely-driven growth.

 _"Chakotay?_ " Her ragged voice cut through his torpor. " _Please._ " 

"How?" Was the first thing that popped to mind. It seemed impossible as they were both still on boosters.  

"I don't know," Her voice was still shaky and unsure. "I don't know. But what are we going to  _do?_ " 

Like being doused with a bucket of ice water, it suddenly occurred to him that she might not want this child. They were living in a world on the verge of collapse and with nothing bar kindness of Jan and Gregg giving them a place to live and work. Bringing a child into this world was foolhardy and reckless.  He steeled himself before he quietly, if not sheepishly, turned the question on her. "What do you want to do, Kathryn?"

Her eyes darted anxiously around the room, as if in search of a disambiguous answer like the one painted on the wall at Belshazzar's feast. Finding nothing, however, her eyes darted up to the ceiling as if to look through it and glare at God himself for the continued comicity. There were two strains of thought at war in her heart. Intellectually, it was dangeous to bring a child into a world like this. _What kind of life would they be able to give to a child in this short time? Was it even safe? And was doing so eminently selfish?_ But Kathryn was a creature that had never been completely ruled by intellect. Her cautious neglect of its tempting hold was what made up the essence of who she was. And though wholly by error, this child was conceived in the passion that she preciously shared with the one man who she loved over all others. This child was piece of them: a tangible, living, breathing entity that combined the very best of both.

For a long time and with a frighteningly vivid acuity, she had envisaged a chubby brown baby nestled to her, suckling her breast in sleepy contentedness. And she had dreamed of that baby with such perspicacity that the desire sometimes left her whole body aching.  " _I know_ ," Shakily, she met his apprehensive eyes and committed her decision to her lips. "That we _shouldn't."_

With a jeremiad sob, his head fell forward in anguish and his tender hold on her abdomen tightened as if clutching something precious that he couldn't keep. _"Please_ don-"

His raw disconsolation tore at her as she knew acutely what he was thinking. "But," She interrupted him before any more tears could be shed. "I _want_ this baby," She smiled ebulliently, nearly laughing through fresh tears. " _Our_ baby."

With one simple sentence the chained constriction on his soul broke free and his spirit soared. The rigours in his muscles mercifully unclenched and waves of relief sang through his veins as his head gently fell forward onto her stomach.Huge, succouring sobs of alleviation shook his body as he held her around the waist. " _Thank you_ ," Was all he could mutter over and over again. " _Thank you,_ Kathryn."


	77. Chapter 77

_“Jan?”_ The back door slid open and washed her in the familiar odour of morning coffee blended with a hint of sweet cinnamon. _“Are you home?”_

 _“I’ll be right out!_ ” A muffled voice called from the hallway. “ _There’s coffee in the kitchen and some cinnamon rolls, if you want!”_

She smiled as she comfortably took her usual seat at the island. Disorganised fragments of yesterday’s newspaper lay strewn under coffee cups, whose wet brown rings spread and maddeningly ran the ink. Next to the disheveled mess, a sleek tablet stood in juxtaposition to the traditionalism of the scene. And the screen flicked on with the press of a button as she curiously scanned down the vivid glass array.

“Good morning, Dear,” Jan yawned, strolling into the kitchen in her favourite pink nightgown. “Coffee?”

“No,” Kathryn shook her head and held up the small device. “New project?”

“Mmm,” Jan nodded, pouring herself a steaming cup of the brown brew. “We’re trying out a new system at the hospital where patients’ lab values are sent to those little doo dads that the interns can carry with them. What do you think?”

“Oh...” She blew out a histrionic breath and shrugged, thinking of a padd – the only item to which she could mentally draw a parallel. “They're certainly handy.”

The older woman nodded,“And techy, so the kids like them. So no coffee?”

“No,” Kathryn smiled and shook her head. “No coffee.”

Thoughtfully, Jan leaned back against the low-lying counter. “Kathryn.”

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to apologise,” She said. “For last night.”

Perplexed, Kathryn ran through a jogging replay of what had happened the night before. "Why?"  

“Gregg and I," Jan paused.  "We didn’t mean to belittle your engagement. We think it’s wonderful.   _More_ than wonderful, and we didn’t mean to imply-“

 _“Jan,"_ Kathryn beamed, unable to keep the news to herself.  "You were right."  

Jan moved forward, vying to hear her open secret in the morning stillness.  _“Sorry?”_

“You were right," Her head fell forward in laughter.  "We _are_  pregnant!”

Out of its familiar hiding place, that prosaic pang settled in her stomach.  It was the one that selfishly, even after years of practice, she couldn’t tamp down. She saw women _every_ day who were mothers.  Some of them with bellies tautly stretched and burgeoning with new life.  They were just beginning their breathtaking adventures.  Others walked trailed by buoyant toddlers, or recalcitrant adolescents with their lives in mixed states of obliging. And then there were those whose journeys were ending.  Lamentably, they were the ones that she saw most often.

For all her pacifying excuses over the years, Jan would still never experience those joys.  Those _beautiful_ , if not at times distressingly irksome, rigours of motherhood. It was something in her youth that she never thought she would miss.  Then, she never imagined that not having a child would metamorphose into such a throbbing regret. And though truthfully Jan didn’t know a lot about Kathryn’s past, or the person she was before she came here, she had seen that she too had been heading down the same trail.  It was the path upon which she would pass other women in the market or in town with their children in tow and always wonder what it would have been like.   _Would they have called her Mom, or Mama? Would they have been artists, doctors, or lawyers? Would they have married and had children of their own…?_

But fortuitously Jan still had time.  In this short interim, she had fashioned herself a daughter in this wonderfully austere, but subtly delicate, warm, and somehow friable woman. And for every bit of the jealousy that she had in the past, she now found that she had none of it and only jubilation and excitement for this new life.  _“Oh_ ,  _Kathryn_ ,” Jan breathed tenderly, a giant smile stretching her features as she reached out to take the younger woman’s small hand and clasp it warmly in her own. "This is wonderful." 

Kathryn remembered back before she left for the Badlands, when Phoebe first got pregnant not a few months before she married Andrew. Gretchen had been elated at the prospect of adding to the Janeway family.  From a very young age, she had become accustomed to the split attentions of her parents, and the fact that she was closer to her father, while Phoebe held her mother’s attentions. Of course, she had her own brand of closeness with her mother, but it was never quite the same relationship that she had with Phoebe.  And in the short time between Phoebe’s initial announcement and Kathryn’s departure, she had witnessed a fundamental strengthening in the symbolic three-stranded rope that was Phoebe and Gretchen’s connection. They shared something that Kathryn had no part in, nor did she ever think she would.

Children had never been high on Mark’s list.  He was content for a quiet academic life spent in muted companionship. And for all Kathryn’s hushed hopes for her own family, she was more than willing to abrogate them completely in favour of advancing her career and attaining her father’s level of success. But desires in life find a way of asserting themselves when the possibility of ever having them evaporates into the emptiness of thin air. And so even in the midst of Kathryn’s muffled longing for children, _true_ happiness, or even a deeper and more meaningful relationship wit her mother, she was never willing to fight for them until it was much too late. But now, as she was becoming more and more humorously aware, the universe has an absurdly jocular way of giving corollaries.

For over six years Kathryn yearned for her mother. In the quiet moments spent in solitude after the death of a crewmen, the breach of a hull, the fraying of her nerves, or even in the raw human moments of her own feminine frustrations Kathryn throbbed for that connection. But more and more so now she was beginning to realise that Jan was given in Gretchen’s stead. In _this_ moment, Jan’s warm green eyes looked at her with the adoration that she had seen in her mother’s when she looked at Phoebe. " _Thank you,"_ She whispered, tightening her hold on the older woman's hand.  

“So, tell me,” Jan smiled wickedly. “Did you just find out, or did you know last night?" 

"We found out this morning," Kathryn harkened back to the joy of a few hours earlier.  

"Chakotay must be so excited," Jan bubbled.  "Now tell me, did he _just_ about fall over?"  


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone! You guys are the loveliest!!

_“Kathryn?”_ She he heard his breathless voice even before the front door opened, causing her to look up from the mess of papers on the dining room. 

"Hmm?"  

The weather was becoming progressively warmer as spring started to slowly make its annual encroachment. Even the air was changing, growing moist and carrying on it the piquant smells of newly uncovered grass and dirt.  Chakotay had never smelled anything quite like it before - not even in San Francisco. Its notes were deliciously saccharine, as though being buried by snow and ice had concentrated the earth’s balmy flavours that, now free, were begging to be sampled.  “Busy?” He smiled, taking off his muddy shoes and leaving them outside the door.

“Not too,” She replied.

“I was going to go into town. I need a few things for the project I’ve been working on.”

“Is that an invitation?” 

“Yes,” He leered. “If you can be torn away from your work for an hour or so.”

He stepped forward to look at the messy array she had in front of her. Seeing Kathryn with actual paper spread out in front of her in a dizzying halo was an _organic_ experience. He imaged this is what she would have been like at the Academy: focused, intense, but methodically disorganised.  Whereas he himself had always been systematic and precise in his approach to work and life, Kathryn took the opposite view.  For a moment he remembered New Earth and how living with her initially had been somewhat of a personal undertaking. It wasn’t that she was messy.   _No_ , just... charmingly disorganised with her half-empty coffee cups precariously strewn over their workspace and dirty dishes left sitting in even the most unusual of locations. In fact, he’d once found a bowl of half eaten porridge on the ledge of the bathtub and wondered how it’d gotten there.

On the ship she organised herself similarly with padds scattered here and there as she sat and scramblingly scrolled through one before throwing it aside in favour of another.   _“Aha!”_ She’d cry in euphoric triumph, finding subtle answers to the many quagmires floating around her head. And so the cycle could continue for hours on end.  Soon after they started their working relationship, he noticed all the jobs she relegated to him were of a mathematic, precise nature: crew rosters, duty shifts, schedules, tactical schematics etc.  His brain worked in that _painstaking systematic fashion,_  whereas Kathryn's was more scattered.  She saw fragmented pieces of a whole and creatively worked with each one them before fitting together the jigsaw in a brilliant conclusion.

“Oh?" Her smile widened as she got up and headed towards him to get her coat.  "I think that can be arranged. That _is_ …”

“That _is_ what?” He opened the door again, only now realising the futility of taking off his boots.

“If you tell me what you’re working on.”

“Uh uh, Kathryn,” He kissed her nose, taking her hand and nearly pulling her out the door. “It's a surprise.”

_“But-!“_

“Ah!” He cut her off. “No _wheedling!”_

“Fine,” She glowered. “Where are we going?”

“That hardware store. Gregg told me where it is downtown.”

“The what?”

“Hardware store. They sell supplies for building. Are you still looking at Shannon's work?”

“Yes,” She sighed, leaning back into the softness of the seat as she tiredly rubbed her eyes. “Would you mind taking a look at it again tonight with me?”

“I’d be happy to,” He chuckled. “I promise, what happened on the plane was a one time occurrence.”

 _“Sure,_ ” She rolled her eyes. “I got an email from her this morning asking me if I was having any success.”

“Did you respond?”

"She's backed me into a corner," She smiled to herself.  "In true _Janeway_ form.  I told her I’d send my markups by the middle of the week.  I should just lie and tell her that I don't know anything.”

"But you wont," It wasn't a question.  He knew her too well. 

"No," She shook her head.  "I won't. I _should_ , but I won't.  I told Jan, by the way."    

"I thought you might have," He glanced over to her.  “Can you believe they knew before we did? I honestly had no idea you were pregnant.”  His heart still soared at the truth of being able to use that word in this context. _She was pregnant with their child!_  

“I didn’t either,” She yawned. “I thought I had the flu!”

"Some flu,” He grinned. 

"Mm," She shook her head in that lingering disbelief. _"Some flu."_

“It feels like a dream.”

Contentedly, she watched the Indiana country pass by with the fields were waking from their winter slumber and the small buds coming through on the still-snow logged trees.“Yes," Kathryn breathed.  "But a good dream."  

They rode on in silence before she pointed to an old storefront demarcated faded red letters just as they drove into town. “There. I think that's your hardware store."

The owner of the small family business was having trouble competing with some of the larger retailers in town. So Gregg had told Chakotay explicitly to come here. “ _It’s important to support the locals,_ ” He explained. “ _We’ve had too many good people go out of business when these larger guys come in and offer lower prices. But even if you have to pay a little more, even just a few cents, you’re doing someone and their family a great service in keeping their heads above water.”_

A bell heralded their entry into the old store. The smell was the first thing he noticed – wood and fresh plastic mixed in with an array of solvents and metals. “Hello,” The older man behind the till greeted them. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Good morning,” Chakotay greeted him. “I'm looking for shellac?"

“Aisle four,” He pointed. “Down back. Holler if you need anything you can’t find on the shelves.”

“Thank you," Chakotay nodded.  “So what did Jan have to say?” He asked as they dallied down the clean white aisles, busily studying the vertiginous array of outlandishly disparate products.

“She was happy like we knew she would be. Excited. I imagine that’s how my mother would feel.  Sometimes," Her voice was wistful. "I think about what she’s like with Phoebe’s child.”  

 “I think about that too with own mother - what she would have been like if she had grandchildren.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever stop missing them,” She sighed as they continued moseying in search of their target. “But somehow it feels easier now. Would you believe there were times on Voyager when I cried because I missed my mother? Can you imagine? A grown woman-“

“That's nothing to be ashamed of, Kathryn,” Chakotay interrupted with a passionate firmness. “I even missed my mother.  I missed her eyes, her voice, everything about her," His voice grew soft in remembrance of those he had lost.  "Even when things between my father and I were tense, she was always there.”

Kathryn leaned into him, reassuring him and giving what small affirmation she could offer. "I'm sorry, Chakotay."  

“They’d be happy for us,” He changed the subject with a kiss to her hair before finding the shellac on the bottom shelf. “Here. Now… _which_ do I choose?”

“The cheapest," She laughed, sauntering away to find her own fancy: a whole rack of paintbrushes that stood at the end of the aisle. It had been years since she had taken the time to paint, she thought, feeling the nylon bristles on her fingers like an old friend not long forgotten but still sorely missed.

He smiled when he found her. “Kathryn?” 

“It’s been two years since I ran that programme,”  She remembered the curiously charming discomposure of the maestro’s studio. “The last time, I took Seven there.  She was so _utterly bored_ from the moment she walked in!”

“What were you doing with Seven in Da Vinci’s studio?”

She rolled her eyes in amused remembrance, “I was trying to teach her about humanity.  About how _disorganisation_ can be good for the imagination!”

“Well you didn’t need to run the holodeck for that…” He mumbled.

 _“Hey!”_ She nudged him in the arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughed to himself, remembering all the evenings he came for dinner only to find her scrambling at the last moment to recycle the half dozen or so excess coffee cups while throwing books back on their shelves and digging for the myriad of fallen padds under the sofa. “You could have just taken her on a tour of your living room.” 

"Well," She shrugged nonchalantly.  "You know what I always say: _a little disorganisation is very helpful for the imagination_!”

“I’ll try keep that in mind,” He chuckled as they went to pay.

The elderly gentleman smiled at the couple as he rang up their purchase on an antique register.“Did you two find everything OK?” 

“Yes,” Chakotay smiled, taking out his wallet. “Thank you.”

“No,” The man nodded. “Thank you. That’ll be seven fifty.”

The town seemed to come alive in the few moments they were in the store and the sweet smell of pancakes, coffee, and something else he couldn’t properly place wafted out from the diner across the street, drawing in what looked to be a steady morning crowd. “Breakfast?” He pointed its source.

“Actually yes,” She agreed, only now considering that she might be hungry. “I’m starving. It feels like I haven’t eaten anything in _days_. _And_ , I think I smell pancakes.”

Chakotay laughed again as he placed the can in the backseat of the truck. “Kathryn Janeway, _hungry?_ Now, _this_ is an occasion worth celebrating!”


	79. Chapter 79

The feeling had started out negligibly, like an infinitesimally microscopic drop of ink from a fountain pen. But like runny ink, the perception had begun to diffuse and indelibly colour everything in its path.   _“Chakotay?”_ The three-syllables of his name drew him back to their task. 

He looked up at her sheepishly and forced a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Kathryn. I’m just a little-“

"You know," She cut him off as she stood, a few papers falling to the floor in the wind of her haste.  “We’ve been sitting here for five hours now, how about a walk?”

“A walk?”

“Down by the lake,” She pointed. “It’s still light.”

"Uh, sure,"Chakotay shrugged before getting up and shrugging on his sweater. 

The late afternoon was, for the first time since they had been here, warm and refreshingly mild. As her shift ended before the silver light of the moon took its watchful stead over the sky, the sun’s normally bright rays turned golden in farewell. “Ground, dirt, grass,” She sighed happily and took his hand, clasping it tightly as they walked through the wet mud down to the lake’s rocky shore. “I think this is the first time we’ve seen so much of it.”

The snow was almost gone now with the dawn of a new season.  And more so now than before, Chakotay was realising what Kathryn meant when she told him that even though the snow was beautiful, its charm and novelty would soon give way into something akin to loathing as the months wore on. And though he found that he relished the annual turnover of the seasons, he also found that the dragging end of one could elicit a nipping impatience and excited restlessness for the next.

"It's beautiful this evening," She breathed the warming air, content to chatter away to herself in lieu of silence.  And he was content to listen to her voice and let its sultry cadence weave a familiar spell around him.

Chakotay had fallen in love with Kathryn in pieces. First, he fell in love with her independence and strength. A small woman, she could have singlehandedly commanded a terrifying army full of ten thousand pugnacious warriors. Then he fell in love with her voice and the timbres that narrated the most fatiguing battles and skirmishes but could at the very same time dulcetly soothe a baby’s cantankerous wail.  Next it was her kindness and compassion, which brightly shone through her like a lighthouse’s piercing beacon into the blackness of the night’s dominion. And last, after everything else, he had fallen in love with her beauty.

She stopped before they reached the lake’s pebbly shore.  _“Chakotay?”_  The honey light of the setting sun brought out the auburn in her hair and set it on fire like a burning copper halo. In the stillness, he took the moment to study the shape of her face and the deep blue of her eyes. _“What?”_ She asked her questions simply now because they had found that most things could be left unspoken, relegated to simpler gestures like the touch of a hand, or a turn of the head.

"I’ve been thinking, "He looked away for a moment as the sun moved lower down own the horizon. "We’re having a baby.”

She laughed heartily at that and retook his hand to continue their saunter. “Yes, Chakotay,” She confirmed with light gaiety. “We’re having a baby.”

“No,” He repeated himself. “We’re _having_ a _baby_ , Kathryn.”

“Yes," She eyed him suspiciously. "But what are you trying to say?”

 _“Kathryn,”_ He breathed, a smile creeping onto his features. “Not what you think.”

“Then what?”

He rubbed his eyes and turned towards the water’s edge, watching the small waves lap against the rocks and subtly shift the tiny pebbles from their winter resting place. “This baby changes everything. It might have been fine for us to live like this.  And that tiny cabin maybe enough for us. But, it’s certainly not enough for a child. We’re going to need a place to live – a _proper_ place to live. Medical care, and-”

“I know,” She cut him off with a curt nod as she walked towards him. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

He smiled and took her hand as they walked down the calm shoreline. “Well, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to,” She said. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I don’t have any solutions for us. What we make here at the camp, from what I’ve seen, isn’t going to be enough to sustain a family." 

“I don’t know what’s available for us here. We're not _qualified_ for anything.“

“Oh?" She laughed in spite of herself.  "I heard just the other day in town that there’s a position open for two ex captains from the twenty fourth century. Apparently those skills are in high demand.”

“I must have missed that ad,” He grinned. “What’s the going rate?”

 _“Oh now, Commander_! Lets not get ahead of ourselves,” But her sunny disposition set just as surely as the reddened orb above them disappeared behind the trees. “This baby...” She shook her head and her shoulders dropping brokenly as a stabling ache settled in her core. “This baby isn’t a good idea.”

Chakotay stopped abruptly and looked at her, “Don’t ever say that, Kathryn.”

A solitary tear fell from her eye and wetly marked its trail of sadness down her cheek, “It’s true.”

He looked down at her abdomen where his hands had found purchase. “Maybe it is. But I’ve dreamt of _this_  for what feels like all my life.  When I joined the Maquis I was prepared to die a martyr. I was so driven by that hatred that I forgot all those dreams I had when I was young.  Dreams of a woman to share myself with, _belong_ to, and create something with.  What we have," He breathed ardently.  "Is the fulfilment of those hopes. So yes, she might not be a good idea. But,” He smiled assuredly and tenderly wiped dry the bitter, wet trail of saline from her beautiful cheek. “We’ll make it work.”

She nodded and smiled, still not fully conceptualising his ameliorating words or the veracity of them, but content to trust him. "So, you think it's a she?" 

“It _is_ a girl,” He said smugly.

 _“Oh?_ ” She raised her eyebrow and retook his hand as they walked towards home. “Is that one of those _Indian intuition_ sort of things?”

He laughed heartily at that, swinging their arms back and forth as their feet sank into muddy earth. “No,” He shook his head gleefully. _“I just know it.”_


	80. Chapter 80

Even before he saw them, they could be heard them barreling down the long driveway; two wide-rim red trucks with  their bouncing chassis packed to the brim with supplies and freshly cut wood kicked up fresh mud in their unwieldy wake before clumsily pulling in front of the small cabin.  _"Chakotay!"_  

"Mike!" Chakotay waved, making his way towards him. "Nice to meet you, _finally."_

Mike Jones was about six foot two with a husky exterior and penetrating gaze that made him a force to be reckoned with. But ruddy cheeks, exaggerated smile lines, and that heavy Midwestern twang softened his burly persona. " _Jesus_ , Chakotay!" He roared gregariously as he took his hand in bone crushing grip. "It's good to finally meet you too. This is my crew," He pointed to the dozen or so disgruntled, tough, nearly disinterested-looking teenagers behind him. 

"Nice to meet you all," Chakotay smiled before Mike's large hand forcibly met the space between his shoulder blades and pitched him forward.

"So, you're taking over for Gregg and Jan, huh? That's great! I know it's a huge strain working and running this camp, and they could certainly use the help. You know Ginny and I've always wondered how they do it."

"Yes," Chakotay nodded humbly. "They're extraordinary people. So Gregg tells me that you and he practically built this place all on your own?"

"Damn straight," Mike laughed, surveying the land around them.  "God, it's been a few years now, but it was one of my favourite projects. It does a lot of good in the community." 

Chakotay agreed. "It's a good thing."

Mike nodded. "So, what's this new project? I know over the phone we talked about taking down two walls in the rec centre and replacing them with glass to get a nicer panorama of the lake."

"That's right. We wanted to take down these two right here," Chakotay pointed from the outside. "And, like you said, replace them with insulated glass."

"Well," Mike appraised the siding, in his own mind trying to piece back the construction of the building all those years ago. "I'm trying to remember… " He paused for a moment and shrugged. "Yeah, that's doable. And now that we're into April and the forecast isn't expecting anymore snow we can get the job done a _helluva_ lot quicker."

"How much time do you think the project will take?" Chakotay asked as they stepped into the building. "Gregg said about a month, but that's cutting it a little close to when the camp opens."

 _"A month_?" Mike laughed. "What are we building, the _Empire State Building_? No, no, no. I've got a guy in town who I'll order the glass from when I leave 'ya. He usually gets things in within a week. And today," He indicated to all the benches that lined the room. "We can move all of these off to the side today, cover them with plastic, and at least start knocking down the walls."

"You think we can do _all of that_ in one day?"

"Sure," Mike shrugged, looking back at the rough band of teenagers following in their stead. "I've got a good crew. And I'm payin' em so they'll do what I say if they don't want to go home at the end of the day with empty pockets…" He turned back to Chakotay, ribbing him a little. "This is a quick project, maybe max two weeks, at the very _most."_

"Only _two_ weeks?" Chakotay looked impressed. "That would give me enough time to start on the rest of the projects that need to be done around here."

"I'd be happy to help you with whatever you've got going on in the meantime. We're booked solid mid April through the rest of the summer, though. So you'll be on your own then."

"Not a pr-"

From the corner of his eye he saw the genesis of the whole debacle. The band of teens had been subtly beating on one another since they got out of the trucks. It had started with a few shoves to the shoulder, and crass words thrown here and there. And he'd thought nothing off it, until the baseline profanity kicked up a couple notches before the first punch had been thrown and soon after the rest of the crowd bolted to take part in the violent hullaballoo.

 _"Tha fuck?"_ Mike mumbled, briefly watching the scene unfold before jumping in. Chakotay, though, had beat him to it.  

 _"Hey!"_ Chakotay, considerably larger than the lanky adolescents, cut into the loud rampageous crowd to pick the two instigators off of one another.

"The _fuck_ , man!" Chakotay heard one of them yell before diverting his attention away from his colleague and aiming own fist at Chakotay's chin.  But the older man was still quicker, blocking the fist while targeting a left jab to his chin in a manoeuvre that wouldn't necessarily hurt the young man, only stun him enough into calming down.

The young man was still disgruntled. Hopped up on a heavy dose of testosterone and adrenaline, he overcame the grip to try and land a punch on Chakotay's jaw.  _"Get off me, asshole!_ " 

 _"Settle down!"_  He grit with the young man in a staying headlock as the rest of the crowd began backing off.

"The hell is wrong with all of you?" Mike yelled as he stormed up through the crowd, pulling the two ringleaders up by their shirt collars. "What did I say about fighting on the job, _dammit?"_

Still breathing heavily, the two men looked not only guilty but also a little scared of the fury pouring from the older gentleman _. "Sorry Mr. Jones,_ " They muttered in unison.

"Sorry isn't good enough! I told you last time what would happen if you did this again: two weeks docked pay and longer work shifts! No fighting on the job. If you can't control yourselves, you're _outa_ here!"

They both nodded guiltily and acquiesced the punishment. "Yes sir."

"Now," Mike calmed himself down, shaking off what residual frustration remained. "Apologise to one another and Chakotay and go clean yourselves up."

While the two rabble-rousers grudgingly shook hands and mumbled half-hearted apologies under Mike's watchful eye while the rest of the teenagers huddled away off to the side, desperate to avoid Mike's fury.

"Damnit, Chakotay," Mike turned back to his colleague in muted frustration. "Where _the hell_ you learn to do all of that?"

Chakotay looked puzzled, rubbing the kink out of his shoulder. "Sorry?"

"Are you into martial arts?"

"Boxing actually," He responded. "I did a little in… college…"

"You're really fuckin' good," Mike huffed just as an idea came to him. "Have you ever thought about teaching?"

 _"Teaching?"_ Chakotay's eyebrows elevated to an impressive Tuvokian level, wondering about the implication.

"Yeah," Mike nodded as he walked them back into the rec center. "We're looking for a new PE teacher down at the high school. The last guy we had was just fired three weeks ago. Something about _conduct unbecoming_ in his dealing with a senior. They didn't tell the parents the whole story, but you can guess.  We put an add out, but so far no one's bitten. Do you think you'd be interested in something like that?"

"Yes," Chakotay shot back without a second thought. _"But,"_ His countenance dropped when reality reasserted itself. "I don't have any qualifications to be a _'PE' teacher_." Whatever that was...

Mike gave a round of gregarious laughter.  "It's not rocket science. And you don't need a formal degree. Not in this school at least. But just think about it. The pay's shit, but at least there's dental and basic health insurance."

"I don't need to think about it," Chakotay breathed.  

"Great!" His new friend glinted.  "My wife and I are on the committee.  We'll bring your name up at the meeting tonight." He laughed again, "Those teachers are going to be jumping out of their skin. Having a bunch of randy high school students cooped up in the building for hours without any physical activity…Ginny says it's like a zoo in spring!"

Chakotay gave an appropriate grin. "I'd be grateful for the job, Mike."

"Sure," Mike nodded. "I don't suspect you'll have any competition for the position so be prepared to get started on Monday." He looked around and surveyed the rec center. "Well we'd better get started if we want to finish in two weeks' time.  _Boys!"_ Mike called out the door. _"Get your butts in here. We've got a job to do!"_


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone leaving Kudos and comments. You are honestly the nicest people in the universe. I really do appreciate that you're liking the story so much.

Every muscle in his body seemed to ache. Even the muscles he forgot he had.  Dully, he could remember a time when he was _actually_ fit. A time when he ran boxing programmes on the holodecks, ran, and devoted at least _some_ hours every week during his down time to doing _some_ sort of training. But somehow and for some inexplicable reason, during his last year on Voyager he had somehow _completely forgotten_ how to exercise. Even the very concept seemed foreign. And his sudden amnesia towards the once familiar entity had shown too. Absentmindedly he'd replicated larger pants and things that used to seem downright commodious refused to even close.   

What had happened, he thought, to that chiseled neckline? Those Prominent cheekbones seemed a bygone entity of a lost time.  Familiar and once thoroughly worn leather pants found their way into the atramentous back of the closet, seemingly forgotten for an eternity to come. And when the Doctor voiced concern about his expanding waistline, his ears had dismissively ceased to function. Life had become base with the more acute fancies of self-care seeming to fall by the wayside in favour of more lowly pleasures like sleep and food.  And though during the past few months he had certainly lost all of that weight, _and then some,_ his current level of fitness was certainly lacking in juxtaposition to what it had once been during his days in the Maquis and even in his early years on Voyager.

Dragging as he passed, their pristine white bed sang a siren's song to ensnare him to its downy fancy. He eyed it with an unholy lust before he decided that Kathryn would be cross if she came home to find him collapsed in a dirty, sweaty heap where they slept. 

 _"Kathryn?"_ He called, looking around the four corners of the house, eager to share the news with her.  Jeff Higgins, the principal of Highland Preparatory, rang him earlier in the day while he was up at the construction site and relayed to him the conundrum Mike had the day before.  

Highland Preparatory was a private start up high school with only about a hundred students. Higgins, good friends with Jan and Gregg, had waived the initial vetting out of desperation, saying that the older couple's deep respect for and trust in him was good enough for the time being. But he would be working on a trial basis until school let out for the summer at which time, if the board was satisfied, he would be offered a one-year contract and full salary and benefits. Though it wasn't a full assurance, Chakotay was grateful for the opportunity to make extra income and allow them to put away some money.

As he wiped a murky drop of sweat from his brow, he suddenly realised just how much dirt and dust had caked on him during the six hours he'd been at work with Mike and his boys up at the centre.  "Well…" He breathed resignedly, looking back longingly at the bed. "Shower it is then."

 

 _"Goodness_ me, Kathryn!" Jan strained to unload the last of the bulbs from the chassis. "I never would have guessed you had a green thumb!"

Kathryn tried lifting the heavy sac of pant mix down from the truck."A what?" 

"Green thumb. It means you're good at gardening. Haven't you ever heard that before?"

"No, never have!" 

 _"Hey!_ " Jan snapped. "Absolutely _not_ , Kathryn!"

 _"Jan,"_ Kathryn rolled her eyes and with another tug successfully pulled the heavy plastic bag down off the lift. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid!"

"I _know_ that," Jan gave her a look. "But no more heavy lifting, you hear me?"

She held up her hands in amused surrender. "Fine. I'll let you get the other bag, but I'm going to start bringing these bulbs inside. I thought it would be nice to plant the tulips around the camp's sign, and then hyacinths around the house. What do you think?"

"Sounds great," Jan wiped the gathering perspiration off her brow. "But whatever you do, please don't lift these bags on your own.  That's why we have men. Just about the only thing they're good for!" She joked.

"I promise I'll have Chakotay lift the bags." She glinted. "Satisfied?"

"Immensely. And plant some bulbs around the cabins too!"

"Will do."

"Are you _sure_ you don't mind doing this, Kathryn?" Jan eyed her, making sure she wasn't relegating more than the young woman could handle.

"I'll be fine, Jan," Kathryn laughed. "Would you relax?"

"Okay, Okay!" Jan held up her hands in surrender. "Now scoot on home. You'll have all day to do this tomorrow."

"I'll come back tomorrow morning,"  Kathryn wiped the dirt off her hands onto her jeans, muddying them like she did with her dresses on New Earth.  

"Good," Jan nodded with a knowing grin towards the cabin. "Now scoot!"

 

The sun had nearly set by the time she made her way back home. _"Chakotay?"_

The loud sound of the running water told her why there was no response. And then suddenly, a deliciously naughty idea came to her as she quietly hung up her light coat, took off her shoes, and tiptoed into the bedroom.

The bathroom door opened silently, warm steam billowing out to moisten her cool skin. As softly as she could, she slipped off her shirt and pants before pulling back the curtain and finding him hunched under the scalding current. "Well, hello there," She smiled devilishly before he'd even had a moment to register her presence.

"Hi, yourself," He beamed, pleasantly surprised as his hand found her waist and drew her to him.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too." Impatient lips started working on the slim line of her neck. "Where were you?"

"The nursery. Jan and I were buying bulbs to plant..."

"I got a job," He mumbled against her neck.

"What?" She was momentarily lulled from her daze before his fingers met the heated skin at the apex of her thighs.

 _"A job,_ " He smiled at her reaction to him.

She let out a groan, gripping him tighter to hold herself up, but otherwise gave no reaction to his news before he reached behind them to shut off the scalding water.  _"Bed,"_ He whispered before her lips claimed his again.

Typically, they didn't surface until well past dinnertime.


	82. Chapter 82

She giggled at the way his lips tugged at the skin of her back while his fingers tickled the soft skin of her thighs.  "Stop that," She smirked and pushed him away.  " _Chakotay!"_

"What?" He pulled away with a look of puppy-dog innocence.  

"You said something," She turned over to face him.  "Earlier in the shower.  What was it?" 

"Oh," He beamed.  "I got a job." 

" _A job?"_

"Yes," He nodded against the pillow. "Teaching physical education."

She sat up suddenly.  "When did this happen?"

"Just this afternoon," He frowned.  "This isn't the reaction I thought I'd get from you."  

"Well," She sputtered. "Why didn't you at least _tell me_ you were looking for a job?"

 _"Kathryn_ ," His shoulders slumped in discouragement.  "Mike only told me about the job at the school yesterday."

 _"School?"_  

"They needed a physical education teacher-"

"Which school?" 

"Highland Preparatory," His downheartedness was turning into irritation.  

"Which?" 

"It's a private school over on Wicklow Street."

"And what's the job?" This was more like an interrogation.  

He sighed, "Physical Education teacher."

"And what about your work here at the camp?" 

"I'll do both!" He shot back pointedly before his hands met the air in aggravation. "Kathryn, I thought you'd he happy about this!"

"I…I..." She stuttered when confronted with his disconsolate anxiety.  _"I'm sorry_ , Chakotay.  I don't know what's wrong with me these days!" A wry laugh escaped her as her hand came up to rub her forehead. "I'm all out of sorts! One minute I'm up, the next I'm down...  This is wonderful news and I am  _happy_ for you."  

He moved closer to her on the bed and put his arm around her. "It's _all right_ , Kathryn. Yesterday, Mike approached me about a job opening for a replacement physical education teacher at the school and I told him that I was interested. So, he brought my name up at some meeting they were having last night and today the head of the school called me and made an offer.. I really am _sorry_ I didn't tell you."

 _"Oh, Chakotay_ ," She let her head fall against his shoulder.   _"I'm_  the one who's sorry. And this is wonderful news. When do you start? Do you know what you'll be doing?"

"Monday. Well, he said they wanted to try something new other than what the last teacher was doing, which was just taking the kids out for an hour and having them run around. They want to start the kids playing sports - start teams that can compete with other private schools in the area."

She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in question. _"Sports?"_

"Soccer, actually," He smiled.

 _"You're_ going to be _teaching soccer_?" She crooked a half smile before erupting into a laugh. "Chakotay, I don't think your holo soccer tournaments with Ken Dalby and Mike Ayala make you an expert! Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Hey!" He snorted. "I'll have you know that we won most of those holo tournaments.  And I used to play a pretty _mean_ game when I was on the Academy's intervarsity soccer team."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"It is actually," He told her lightheartedly. "Let me do this for us, Kathryn. We need to start putting away money for the future. What we make here at the camp _isn't enough_ to support a family."

She nodded plaintively before pulling away and giving herself space to brood. "I know."

 _"Hey,"_  He wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders.  "Tell me." 

She watched him shyly before admitting what was in her heart. "Would it be silly for me to say that I feel a little... _inadequate_?"

"What? Why?"  

"It still hits me sometimes that we're here and that this is who we are now. Most days I can't seem to remember her," Kathryn shrugged. "This _great_ Captain Janeway who led her dauntless crew through the treacheries of the Delta Quadrant. She sounds more like some ridiculous, _gilded_ illusion.  And now..." 

His heart broke at her words. "Now _what_ , Kathryn?" 

"Now…" She turned away from him, trying valiantly to stay the trembling of her upper lip. "I'm not her anymore. _I'm lost_ … And the worst thing is," A few brave tears escaped. "The _worst_ thing is that I _don't even_ miss her…"

Chakotay's heart broke at her earnest words. "You will _always_ be her, Kathryn.  She's the core of who you are.  But maybe..." 

She smirked in spite of herself trying to suppress a lark. "Is this the part where you tell me an ancient legend?"

His earnest visage erupted and he laughed heartily at that. "You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?"

"No," She wove her arms around his neck. "That's one for the books."

"But I mean it, Kathryn," Chakotay told her seriously. "You will _always_ be Captain Janeway.  The _fearless, independent_ woman who _bravely_ led her crew across Delta Quadrant. But for _now_ , let me do this for you.  _For us."_

She leaned in to kiss the underside of his jaw.  "If I didn't know any better, I would say that sounded terribly seventeenth century of you."

"Maybe it is. But maybe I just like the idea of taking care of you for a change."

"All right then," She grinned. "But for the sake of my coveted twenty-fourth century ideals, let me take over most of the work here at the camp-"

"But-"

"Ah!" She cut him off. "With respect to management and paperwork. Don't expect me to wake up tomorrow morning and head down to the construction site with a hammer!"

"Fair enough," He chuckled.

"Oh and one more thing," She whispered against the warm skin of his neck while her hands acted on plans of their own.

_"Mmm?"_

"I don't want to be _engaged_ to you anymore, Chakotay."

Like a jumping into a freezing cold lake, her words stunned every nerve in his body. _"What?"_

Deviously, her hand continued its torturously seductive path in spite of his sudden shock. "I said," She kept her smile hidden from him. "I _don't want_ to be your fiancée…"

Eyes wide, he moved away from her to catch that silly grin that lit her eyes.  " _Kathryn?"_

"Hmm?" She laughed at his unnecessary distress.  

"What are you saying?"  

"What I said," She leered, pushing him back against the mattress.  "That I don't want to be engaged to you anymore."  

 _"Then what?!"_ He exasperated.  

"I want," One leg swung over his hips while her lips began nipping at the delicious curve of his lower lips.  " _To marry you."_


	83. Chapter 83

If you were going to talk in class, everyone knew this was the time; when she was in one of her math-induced trances. When she was like this, not even _a bomb_ going off in front of her could have broken her focus.

Liz eyed her friend, while conspiratorially keeping her voice low, certain that Mrs. Foyle wouldn’t hear.  _“So… Did you hear?”_

Megan rolled her eyes, looking up from the doodle she was drawing on her notebook page.  _“Did I hear what?”_  

_“About the new PE teacher.”_

Megan’s eyes widened. “We hav-“

 _“Shhhh,”_ Brian looked back. _“God, Meg, keep your voice low!”_

 _“Sorry!”_ She glanced back up at the front to where Mrs. Foyle was, thankfully, still educing the calculus equation and talking herself through the second derivation. _“So we have a new PE teacher?”_

 _“Yah,”_ Liz nodded, her suggestive smirk telling the story before she could get it out. _“And,”_ She paused for drama. _“From what I hear…”_

Meg struggled to keep her voice at a low whisper. _“Oh my God, what? Tell me!”_

 _“Well,”_ Liz glanced up at the front again. _“I got a text this morning from Rachel, who came in late. Anyway, when she passed Mr. Higgins' office to get a tardy slip, he was just walking out of his office with the new teacher to give him a tour of the school –_ “

 _“Guy or girl?”_ Meg goaded.

 _“Guy,”_ Liz winked. _“And apparently, from what Rachel says - a total hottie!”_

_“Oh my God! No way!”_

“Meg?” Mrs. Foyle’s rang out, calling her bluff and souring her enthusiasm.

Meg winced, “Yes?”

Mrs. Foyle eyed her, making her feel less than two feet tall.“Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Uh,” She shook her head. “No, Mrs. Foyle. Sorry….”

The teacher raised her eyebrow pointedly keeping her gaze trained on Meg. “Would you like to come up here and finish the rest of the equation?”

“Uh…”

“That’s what I thought.” She nodded reproachfully. “Well, class, we’re just about out of time. But as I'm sure you’ve already heard by now – well _Liz_ has anyway, you have a new PE teacher. So instead of going to study hall after lunch, you’ll be heading to the field. So my advice would be to change before you eat.” The bell rang as she finished. “Dismissed!”

 

“Nice one there, Meg,” Brian laughed as he passed her in the hallway. “When are you going to learn that Mrs. Foyle is practically Argus’ reincarnate?”

“Argus?” She questioned skeptically, wondering if she heard him correctly. “Who’s Argus?”

“You know,” Brian gave her a look. “Argus the All Seeing: the mythological Greek hero who had eyes in the back of his head?”

 _“God, Brian!_ ” Rachel laughed. “I think you’ve taken this Percy Jackson obsession a little bit too far!”

“You should see him at home,” Liz chimed in, bringing up the rear. “He just sits there for hours on end reading those books.”

The lanky teen shrugged,“Well at least it’s interesting! Better than that _Two Directions_ crap you sit up in your room listening to for hours on end!”

 _“One Direction,_ ” His sister shoved him in the side. “Get it right, loser! And it’s not crap, it’s _practically religion.”_

“I am literally jumping out of my skin to see the new PE teacher,” Megan caught up with Rachel. “Is it true, Rach? Liz said he’s really hot...”

Rachel smirked as she plopped down at the cafeteria table and whipped out her lunch. “Oh my God, Meg he's _so hot!_  Like…” She paused, trying to think of a celebrity doppelgänger to compare him to. “Well I can’t think of anyone we know, but you’re literally going to flip! I honestly don’t know how I’m going to be expected to run… or really do anything other than stare.”

Meg swallowed a piece of her sandwich, her imagination running wild. 

“Oh and did you hear?” Liz added.

“About soccer?" Meg huffed. "Yes. And I’m awful at it! I don’t know _why_ we need to play sports!”

“Yeah well…” Liz shrugged. “Luckily we won’t actually be playing any games until the fall. Seriously, I wish this school would get their act together.  It’s a little late to be starting a sports programme!”

“Whatever,” Rachel gave her own two cents. “I don’t think you girls are going to much care what we’re doing once you see who’s coaching us…”

 

“So,” Jeff Higgins turned to him with a peculiar look on his face. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Corralling horny, hyper teenagers…”

“Sure,” Chakotay shrugged jovially, remembering his days doing just that back at the Academy. But even still, that knowledge and experience couldn’t sedate the nervous butterflies that fluttered around his stomach.  Seeing a school like this was something completely new for him. It was small, granted; but bright and airy. He tried to remember the Academy and what it had been like, but he came up dry bar a few disjointed details of his own classroom and the general grounds. This place, though, was completely devoted to these students and making sure that each every one of them succeeded and thrived.

The grounds themselves were large. Principal Higgins had explained that the board had bought several acres.  If the school grew along projected parameters, they had plans to use some of that land for a gym and a fitness centre.

The faculty he had met so far here were happy and passionate about learning and teaching. He thought of his role here and how he would make his own impact on the lives of these teenagers. It was a privilege, he thought, to have that kind of influence over young people. To know that they looked up to you and took note of what you said, how you acted.  To anyone, that kind of an influence conveyed a heady sense of personal onus.

He hadn't met any of the students yet.  But, he took a deep breath, he was about to as the back doors of the school opened to about forty-five fifteen to eighteen year olds running around the large open field. 

 _“Alright! Everybody listen up!”_ For a small man, Principal Higgin’s had an impressively projective voice that drew the crowd and calmed the hullaballoo. “This is Mr. Chakotay. He’s your new PE teacher and soccer coach. I want you to welcome him and show him the level of respect that you show all of your teachers. Is that understood?”

The crowd nodded subduedly.

“All right,” Principal Higgins turned back, giving him a solid wink. “If you have any trouble you know where to find me. So, uh, thank you and _good luck!_ ”

“Thanks again,” Chakotay nodded, turning his attention back to the variegated crew of adolescents.  “ _Well, as Principal Higgins told you, my name is Mr. Chakotay and I’ll be your soccer coach for the rest of the year. Now I’d like…”_

 _“Holy shit_ , Rach,” Megan whispered, her scrutiny firmly fixed to the man in front of them.

 _“Language,_ Meg!” Liz hissed. “But honestly… I couldn’t have said it better myself…”

“Well girls,” Rachel smirked, her gaze still lingering on the man in front of them. “All I can say is… soccer is officially my _favourite_ sport.”


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, everyone! You are so lovely :)

_“Gregg always used to laugh at me,_ ” Jan strained to grasp the box that was just out of reach in the stygian blackness of the dormant attic.“ _’Jan,’ he’d say. I don’t know why you feel the need to keep everything! You’re just as bad as those people on TV!’ Well,”_  She kept on. “ _This’ll teach him! You really will need this stuff one day!”_

Kathryn couldn’t really make out a word she was saying, until she heard a clearly triumphant _“Got it!”_

“You found it, Jan?” Still confused as to why they were here, Kathryn stood at the base of the flimsy pullout staircase with her arms slightly raised in a near pointless gesture in case Jan slipped down.

 _“Yes!”_ She heard as Jan inched lower down the stairs holding a cumbersome sealed box. “Would you mind?”

“Sure,” Kathryn took the ungainly parcel as Jan continued down.

 _“Ah!”_ She held her nose as her feet met the floor. _“Ah! Ah! Choo!”_ She sneezed in relief. “Goodness, I forgot how dusty it was up there!”

“Bless you,” Kathryn mumbled out of habit as she examined the big blue dust-covered box. “What is this, Jan?”

“Well,” Jan eyed the hang-down staircase, her attention momentarily distracted. “ _I’ll get Gregg to put it back up_... What was that dear?”

“Jan!” Kathryn laughed with a frustratedly amused alto. “What _is_ this!?”

“Oh,” She smiled leading her into the master bedroom. “Yes well, _this…”_ She took the box from her hands and laid it gently on the floor. “Was my wedding dress.”

With gentle fingers she opened the sealed package and peeled back the tissue paper. “We’ve moved around…” She thought for a moment, totalling the number of times on her fingers. “We moved around six or seven times since we got married. And each time, I’ve had to cull more trinkets and memories than I can count. But this…” Jan gave a long sign as she pulled the dress out of its long-held resting place. “I’ve kept.”

Kathryn marveled at the tea-length cream dress as Jan laid it out on the bed. _“Oh Jan._ It’s beautiful.”

The dress was short.  On, it would fall no further than her knees. The sleeves were long and sheer, and the bodice was straight and comprised of a delicate lace. It was exquisite. 

“Yes,” Jan remembered the day she wore it and pledged her life to the man she loved.  The afternoon had been warm, and she'd nearly regretted the long sleeves. They left class early to get to the courthouse. Not wanting to make a scene in the school, she brought the dress with her and changed in the ladies bathroom once they’d gotten to the registry.  The ceremony had been quick with only basic vows and cheap rings exchanged. But it had been what they wanted: something simple, a reflection of their feelings for one another.

She recalled how handsome Gregg looked – so young and fresh faced. Even now, he still made her go weak at the knees. But that day, and somehow in that very moment that she recited those vows, she had seen him in a new light. He was hers, and she was his. And that sheer realisation had made everything seem sweeter. Every word said in love and adoration suddenly took on a palpably beautiful corporeal form, and even the words said in choleric vexation lost their bitter sting.

“Now,” Jan took a deep breath and turned to the younger woman beside her, scrutinising her petite form. “Luckily, when I was in medical school, I didn’t have this,” She laughed and gently patted her barely visible belly. “But I was never as tiny as you are. That being said, I don’t think I was far off. Why don’t you go in the bathroom and try it on?”

_“Oh, Jan, I…”_

The older woman gingerly picked up the dress and placed it in Kathryn’s hands. “Well?” She smiled and nodded towards the en suite. “I’m not getting any younger over here!”

Kathryn had been engaged to Mark Johnson for many years. Truthfully, she couldn’t even remember when he’d proposed. There were no fireworks or grand gestures of love and romance. And he certainly hadn't gotten down on one knee with the serendipitous velvet box.  When Phoebe got engaged there was so much excitement! Her sister must have shown off her shiny new ring to every friend and family member, and even the odd stranger!  Phoebe had _something_ with her fiancé.  Something Kathryn could faintly conjure from her relationship with Justin, but none of that did she have with Mark.  In all those years of being engaged, Kathryn had never gone dress shopping; she hadn’t even thought about it. She had been satisfied to get married in her dress uniform.

Mark wanted a conventional wedding in a church. Something about the traditionalism of the whole schematic attracted his old-fashioned sensibilities. The night before she left for the Badlands, they had made love. It was her way of saying goodbye to him. And afterwards, in the silence of his bed, he’d made her promise that when she got back, they would finally get married. She'd said yes, _of course_ , but her heart hadn’t been in it. Rather, an unmistakable feeling of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach.  But in _this moment_ , as she carefully unzipped Jan’s dress and wrapped herself in its delicate fabric, she felt none of that trepidation, only an intoxicating sense of beguilement and eagerness for her future with Chakotay.

 _“Well?”_ Through the door she heard that familiar smile. _“Are you going to keep me waiting?”_

With the flourish of her wrist, she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom. “What do you  think?” She smiled and turned around.

 _“Oh, Kathryn,_ ” Jan’s eyes watered at seeing the dress on her. “It’s _absolutely_ beautiful!”

Kathryn walked over to the full-length standalone. “Oh, Jan,” She grinned, florid emotion deepening her voice. _“It’s perfect._ ”

Excitement put aside for the moment, Jan tottered around and perused the dress with a sartorialist’s keen eye. She bunched the fabric around the midsection, primped and prodded with the sleeves, and mucked with the hemline. “Well, we’ll pin it a little in the waist since we don’t have time to get it altered.”

“Ok,” Kathryn whispered, still admiring her reflection and seeing none of the flaws that Jan did.

“Kathryn,” Jan drew her attention. “Are you sure you want to do this so soon? Don’t you want time to get the dress altered, to-“

“No,” Kathryn cut her off with gentle adamancy as she turned to face her wonderful friend. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Jan nodded in understanding. “Well, alright then. Tomorrow night we’ll do something since Gregg and I have to get to work after the ceremony.”

“That’s fine,” Kathryn smiled, laughing at the humour of the situation before turning back to the mirror. “Afterwards, I have to drop Chakotay at the school and then run some errands!”

“Some honeymoon,” Jan winked.

“Mmm,” she smiled and shrugged nonchalantly.

“Maybe we’ll do something in the evening – go out for dinner maybe?”

Kathryn laughed, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “Maybe,” she winked suggestively. “The night _after...”_


	85. Chapter 85

_“Chakotay?”_ She whispered faintly into the dusky twilight of their bedroom. _“Are you awake?”_

She heard the grin in his deep baritone when he answered, “Yes.”

Awkwardly, she turned in the circumference of his arms. “I can’t sleep.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” She smiled.

“Cold feet?” He suggested.

 _“No,_ ” She shook her head.

“Last minute jitters?” 

“No!” Sidled to him, she laughed at his suggested absurdity.

 _“Kathryn,_ ” For a moment, he put aside his joviality. “We don’t have to do this…”

“Shh,” She smiled as her hand came up to trace she sharp lines of his cheek. “I wasn’t fishing for an out. I want this, Chakotay,” Her staunch alto assured. “And I have for a _very long time.”_

He looked over her to the well-lit readout. “Five hours… Well, four hours, thirty-seven minutes…. No wait,” He adjusted. “Thirty-six now.”

Suggestively, her knee insinuated itself between his thighs. “I can think of a _few ways_ to pass the time…” 

Mustering all of his willpower, he lightly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to face him, "Kathryn?"

_“Hmm?”_

“Doesn’t making the love the on morning of your wedding violate some sort of tradition? Something about _bad luck?_ ”

“No,” She feigned contemplation for a moment before returning her rapt attention to his neck. “That’s seeing the bride before the wedding.”

“Oh. Okay, but-”

“Shhh…”

As if they had a mind of their own, his hands automatically snaked their way under her shirt. It was their new habit to stop over the tiny firmness in her abdomen, as if to say hello to and acknowledge the cherished life that lay sleeping there before talented fingers slipped under the band of her sweatpants.  _“Kathryn?”_

She let out a foiled groan partly out of that fact that he was speaking instead of using his tongue for more pleasing endeavours, and partly due to the frustrating impediment that his sweatpants provided.  _“What now_ Chakotay?” 

“Are you _sure_ this is a good idea?”

The cleft of her bottom met with his rigid member as she leaned forward,  _“Chakotay…”_

 _“god…”_  He groaned, tightly grabbing the skin of her buttocks as if to pathetically grasp some grain of control before he lost himself completely in the sea of pleasure that she was giving him.

“Are we really going to talk about tradition? For _one_ ,” She emphasised with a flippant toss of her hair. “We _airlocked_ tradition when you got me pregnant _before_ the wedding."

"Fair enough," He gave a laugh.  

"Now," She leaned forward more and brought them into alignment.  " _Shut up, Chakotay."_

He laughed in concession before flipping them unexpectedly and doing away with the rest of her clothes, “ _Aye Aye, Captain!_ ”

* * *

 _“Kathryn?”_ Jan knocked on the bathroom door. _“Are you almost ready? We have to be there in twenty minutes!”_

“Almost!” She called back before returning her full attention to the woman she saw in the mirror.

Hair and makeup done, and her dress perfectly pinned into place, she was content to stare for a few moments. After all, this was her wedding day.  Some would contend that bar the birth of her child, this was the most important day of her life. The woman in the reflection still looked like Kathryn Janeway, she thought. That was still her same nose.  Those were still her same lips.  Though a little longer now, that was still her same hair. She still had the same irksome divot over her eye that she’d had since she was fifteen. And those were still her same cobalt blue eyes. But somehow, even in the midst of all this sameness, she felt new.

Today, in just under and hour, she would marry her best friend.  He was the only other person who in all the times past, and in all the times yet to come, _intimately knew_ her ruefully impressive compendium of personal demons, failures and faults and loved her fully in spite of them.  _Today_ she could appreciate that gushing torrent of emotion that women talked about on their wedding day. 

 _“Kathryn!”_  

“Coming!”

“Oh Kathryn!” Jan enthused when she stepped out into the bedroom. “You look absolutely stunning! A _true_ vintage,” She winked before she caught site of the clock. “We’d better go.”

Kathryn nodded in tacit agreement as they hurriedly made their way out into the warm April morning. 

“Gregg just sent me a text; they’re at the courthouse already getting the paperwork.”

She turned to her friend as she fastened her seatbelt, “Did they say it was busy?”

“No,” Jan shook her head. “And even if it was, I made Judge Alton _swear_ on the Good Book that she would see you before she did anything else!”

* * *

Judge Valerie Alton had presided over the Warton County Courthouse coming up on thirty-five years this June. _And what a career it had been so far!_

Sometimes she thought that her younger self would have balked in horror at what her career had become. In her youth, she had always fashioned herself becoming something tantamount to a Supreme Court Justice. But those were the machinations and fleeting fancies of childhood. What young person, their eyes full of starry optimism, doesn’t set out to change the world?  But what one learns as they get older is that sometimes changing the world doesn’t always require a loftily adorned position, or an elaborately embellished title. Sometimes, all that’s required is a dose of pertinacious determination and generous dollop of divine forbearance.

None of that goes to say that Valerie Alton was changing the world by any great means. But in all of her years holding this nearly insignificant judicial seat in a tiny corner of Middle America, she was visibly able to make her own subtle impact.  Her work here fundamentally changed the directions of a people’s lives. The words that she spoke could either tear a family apart, or bring them together; they could levy a man free, or confine him for life. And though she relished that work, the days she enjoyed the _most_ were the ones like these.

* * *

Gregg smirked at the younger man whose nervous pacing was wearing a hole into the aged red carpet of the lobby. “You all right there, Chakotay?”

He stopped mid step, a sheepish grin creeping onto his features. “Uh, fine…”

“Nervous?”

“No,” He shook his head, ambling over to take his seat on the bench next to the older gentleman. “Maybe…” He amended with a shrug of his shoulder. “Maybe a little.”

“I remember my own wedding day…” Gregg sat back and smiled.

 _“And?”_  

“Oh,” Gregg snapped to once he felt the tedious stare. “Nothing.  I just remember it…”

Chakotay looked down at the floor and rubbed his eyes, as if trying to physically expunge the tension. “I’ve wanted to marry Kathryn for almost as long as I’ve known her.  But, I never thought this day would come.”

For habit’s sake, he now imagined the converse. He imagined what they would be doing right now if they were still on the ship. He imaged that the bitterness would have remained. He imagined two stubborn, lonely people too proud to admit that they needed one another. He imagined a life still spent without her, holding her, or making love to her. He imagined not listening to all the secrets she held in her heart, while he divulged his own.  Now, those very notions were intolerable, but somehow their harsh juxtaposition made this moment all the sweeter. And not for the first time, he was grateful that they were so far from their lives and who they used to be.

* * *

“Well,” Jan turned to face her young friend as she turned off the ignition. “Here we are.”

“Mmm,” Her eyes fixed on the stately brick building. _“Here we are.”_

“Are you ready?”

For a moment she thought of all the people she left. She thought of Tuvok, Neelix, B’Elanna, Harry, and even Tom and Seven. She wondered for a moment what they would say. Would they be pleased? Surprised?  She thought of her mother and her sister, and how much she missed them. It had been so long now that she’d nearly forgotten their faces, but she knew with an absolute assurance that they would be glad to see her in love; happy to see her happy.

Turning, she took a deep breath and, with a firm resoluteness, answered, _“Yes."_


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again everyone. You all make the writing sweeter!

“Kathryn, do you want to go in ahead of me? Gregg just texted me,” She scanned the crystal readout. “They’re in the lobby.”

Kathryn looked dubiously from side to side. “You’re not coming?”

“Oh I am,” Jan rifled amid the old receipts and candy wrappers in her purse to find the coins heaped at the bottom. “I just have to pay this damn municipal parking.”

“Alright…”

But as suddenly as the strike of a nascent bolt of lightening, Jan remembered her own wedding day. So she stopped her harried activity and put her arm out to stay Kathryn’s movement. _“Wait,_ Kathryn.”

She had been alone that day.  Her parents were gone, and friends were sparse in their own regard. She remembered that young woman, standing alone in the washroom at the courthouse perfecting her makeup and thinking over the commitment she was about to make – _wishing_ that someone had been there with her. And it wasn’t that she had been unsure; she had never been surer of anything in her life. And to this day, she had never once looked back on the decision she’d made to tie her life to Gregg's.  But for some reason, in those solitary moments, she had wanted her mother – or _someone_ \- to take her hand and offer her something.  Some aged pearls of matrimonial wisdom, or even some meaninglessly cryptic and sappy advise about the nature of love and marriage.

There was a lot to be said for the process of ageing, Jan thought. Of course the organic body slackened and prosaic activities that once seemed stupidly effortless now required more coordination than they merited. But even amid the exasperatingly pesky physical tediosities of growing old, the one thing that could be taken as a gain was the outlook that it gave on life. Long disabused were the nascencies of youth, replaced with the invaluable candors of a well-lived life.

“Kathryn,” Jan took her friend’s warm hand in her own. “When I was where you were now, on this very day,” She smiled blearily at the younger woman. _“I missed my momma._ I missed her voice,” She distantly evoked her soft cadence. “I missed what I had always thought she would say to me on my wedding day. I wished that she’d met Gregg and that she’d been there with me in that lonely washroom to tell me what a lovely man I was marrying, and how proud she was of me.”

Her lips trembling and a familiar warm pressure building behind her eyes, Kathryn forced a watery smile as she once again thought of her mother and how _badly_ she wanted her to be here. “ _I do miss her,_ ” She whispered, trying desperately to hold back tears for fear of ruining her well-placed makeup.

“I know,” Jan leaned over the armrest and kissed her temple. “But I know she would be proud of you, Kathryn. You’re a wonderful woman.  And I can say that with _absolute certainty_ even though I’ve only known you for a few months. You’re smart, kind, and,” She grinned. “ _Enviably_  gorgeous. But more important than that, you have a  _beautiful spirit._ And Chakotay, he’s a _good man_ , Kathryn.”

Kathryn smiled as she thought of Chakotay, not a meter a way, waiting for her. She could picture his handsome face, which was, she smiled, likely the picture of nerviness at this very moment! _“Yes,”_ She nodded. “He is a good man.”

“The _very_ best,” Jan grinned as she wiped the tears from her own cheeks. “Well now,” She sniffled, letting go of Kathryn’s hand as she fished for the rest of the coins. “Gregg told me that Chakotay is just about set to have a coronary if we don’t get in there!”

Kathryn laughed wetly as she slipped down from the high rise of the truck, careful not to disturb the charily placed pins. “I’ll bet!”

* * *

“Chakotay!” Gregg sat back and chuckled as he watched the younger gentleman get up and pace for the umpteenth time. “Would you please sit down! Jan said they’re just outside!”

"Sorry I..." The resonant echo of heels on marble suddenly drew his nervous attention.

Here came those ocean-blue eyes as long legs carried her to him. And for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming.  _“Hi_ ,” She smiled widely and he lost the ability to breathe, to move, even to blink.  And then she touched him, with her hand on his chest like she’d done a thousand times before, and she finally understood.

 _“You’re beautiful,_ ” He whispered. “So…” He struggled to find a word more than 'beautiful', because it wasn’t enough. It was itself intrinsically paltry, too meagre to describe absolutely anything about her. So he was content to hold her in his gaze and hope that she could see herself in his eyes.  Because _maybe_ that would suffice in lieu of inadequate syllables.

She fingered the small buttons of his white shirt, breathing him in, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

 _“Ahem,”_ Gregg coughed and a silly grin spread over his features as he took his wife’s hand. “Well are you two just going to stand here all day?”

Chakotay broke into a deep dimpled grin and looked back to the woman beside him. “Well, Kathryn?”

She laughed, letting her head fall against his shoulder as her hand snaked down his arm to mesh tightly with his. “Let’s _do it_ , Chakotay.”

* * *

 _“Jeff,”_ Valerie contended. “ _I’ll pick up the grandkids tonight after work. John said that he and Lauren wanted the night off,_ ” She laughed at something her husband said on the other line. _“No, no, no,”_ She smiled into the phone. _“We don’t go there…”_

A knock to the solid oak door brought her attention back to. “ _Jeff,_ ” she grinned. “ _I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight!_ Come in!” She rose from her desk as she slipped her reading glasses off her nose and let them fall back down around her neck.

“I’m sorry we’re late, Val!” Jan began before she’d even one foot in the door.

“Jan!” Valerie ambled to meet them. “Goodness,” She embraced her old friend. “It’s been too long! So good to see you.”

“Much too long,” Jan agreed as Gregg sauntered in, trailed by Kathryn and Chakotay.

“Gregg!” Valerie hugged him similarly. “Luckily I haven’t seen you in here lately!”

“Oh, stop!” He rolled his eyes with a wry grin. “I’m happy as long as I don’t have to testify on those damn medical malpractice suits! You know, my heart goes out to the physician.  You damn near can’t practice medicine without the terror that those _ambulance chasers_ are going to sue you! Well… I’ll stop,” He smiled as he turned to Kathryn and Chakotay.

“Yes,” Jan laughed. “We didn’t come her to discuss medical law!” She patted her husband’s arm. “Val, we’d like you to meet our friends Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay Kole.”

“A pleasure,” The judge smiled amicably at the two as she shook their hands. “You know Jan here can’t stop singing your praises, and she absolutely insisted that I take you first thing this morning!”  Her exuberance molted into a wistful grin. “But I can see just by looking at you two why she was so insistent.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn blushed. “We’re so grateful that you could take us at such short notice.”

“Not a problem, dear. But!” She turned back to her desk to woefully gaze upon the mountain of paperwork that lay in wait for her, not to mention her full day of hearings. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to do this quickly. I’ve got to be in court in twenty minutes!”

“That’s fine,” Chakotay reassured. “We’re just thankful that you had time to take us this morning.”

 _“Nonsense!_ ” She waved away their needless sentiment. “Now then, we have our witnesses. So, Kathryn and Chakotay, why don’t you two come forward and face one another.”

Kathryn thought that she should be nervous, that butterflies should quiver and wobble her stomach. And somehow, she even expected that nervous perspiration to bead under her arms and in her palms.  But as she met his kind obsidian velveteen gaze, she realised that she felt none of it.

 _“Friends,"_  She heard the judge begin. _"Today we have gathered to celebrate to marriage of Kathryn and Chakotay…”_

For a moment, her mind drifted half a galaxy away to a planet not so unlike this one, into a small shelter at the edge of a wood where he pledged his life to her.   _Peace_ , that’s what he said she brought him. She remembered in that moment, it was as if he'd spoken it in Delphic prose; not a faucet of the word had meaning. Now, however, that one-syllabled word found translation and took on a life of its own. _Chakotay_ gave that word meaning. In _him_ , her weary, battered spirit found rest.

_“Kathryn, will you take Chakotay to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love, comfort, honour, and protect him; forsaking all others to be faithful to him until death do you part?”_

The final shackles of her guilt and remorse fell away to be burnt by an ephemeral fire. And with the utterance of a simple word, her spirit ascended. “Yes.”

_“And you, Chakotay, will you take Kathryn to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love, comfort, honour, and protect her; forsaking all others to be faithful to her until death do you part?”_

He was grinning to the point of pain. “Yes.”

Cool rings slid on warm fingers and peripherally she heard more words. She knew they had meaning, but all that she could think was that he was hers – _finally hers_.

And she was his.

_“Until now, Kathryn and Chakotay have spent each moment of their lives as separate individuals. But from this day on, and for every day after, each day will will be shared and spent as one. So, by the power enthroned in me, by the state of Indiana, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”_

Valerie smiled warmly at the couple knowing they had barely heard a word she’d said. Their universe was one another. And in this moment, they were lost to the galaxy around them.

_“You may now kiss your bride.”_


	87. Chapter 87

“Well, you two!” Jan raised her hands in excitement as the four walked out of the courthouse into the warm, sunny Indiana morning. “Is it just me, or is this an _absolutely perfect_ day?”

Chakotay looked down at the woman next to him.   _His wife._ “Yes. It certainly is.”

She turned to him and caught his smile. The same one she had seen a million times before when she used to catch on the ship when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was the one reserved _only_ for her that told a million ancient legends, each of them special and innately meaningful in their own right, but all having the same incontrovertible interpretation.

Gregg looked down woefully at the timepiece on his wrist. “We have to get going, honey.”

 _“Oh!”_ Jan rolled her eyes in consternation before taking Kathryn and Chakotay’s other hands. “I’m sorry you two, but we really do have to get going. We’ve got a new batch of students rotating with us and we have to be there early for orientation.”

Kathryn smiled at Jan’s kindly placed anxiety. “ _Jan,_ ” Kathryn assured. _“Go_ , we’ll be fine. I have to drop Chakotay off at work in a couple of hours anyhow.”

“Some wedding day!” Gregg laughed at the similarity to his own wedding day; just after he and Jan tied the knot, they’d run off to anatomy lab.

“Well,” Kathryn blithely shrugged, catching his grinning gaze out of the corner of her eye. “We don’t mind.”

“Well, alright,” Jan gave her a look of amused forlorn. “But you two go and do something fun until Chakotay has to get off to the school, okay?”

“We will,” Chakotay promised. “Now go before you’re late!”

“Alright, alright!” Jan reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek before doing the same to Kathryn. “Congratulations, again! We’re so happy for the both of you.”

Gregg moved in quickly to hug Kathryn and firmly shake Chakotay’s hand. “Yes,” He beamed. “Congratulations. And Chakotay, I forgot to mention. I was on the phone with Jeff Higgins just last night. He’s so impressed with what you’ve been able to do with the kids in the short time you’ve been there! And from what I hear, the board is going to offer you that full contract before the year is out!”

“Oh, Chakotay!” Kathryn beamed up at him, not really surprised, but proud nevertheless. "That's wonderful!" 

“That _is_ wonderful,” Jan radiated, planting another quick kiss on his cheek. “Now, enjoy your day, you two. We’ll see you later!”

“Bye,” They waved as Jan and Gregg heaped into their truck and quickly pulled away.

“Well, Chakotay,” Kathryn gripped his hand a little tighter as they sauntered towards the car. “We’ve got just about two hours until I have to drop you off at the school.”

He leaned in close and whispered, “ _We could go home and…”_

“Absolutely not, Chakotay!” She laughed, hitting him lightly on the chest before climbing into the passenger seat of the truck. “You and I both know that we won’t make it out of the house in _two hours._ ”

Chakotay shrugged, an impishly endearing smile lighting his features as he started the car. “Well, you certainly can’t fault a man for trying.  So, if not _wildly satisfying sex,_ then… breakfast?”

She smiled and leaned over the armrest to plant a firm kiss on his lips. “Now _breakfast_ I can do.”

* * *

“Kathryn Janeway,” He grinned over his coffee cup. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat this much!”

Grinning indulgently, she looked up from her plate of nearly demolished breakfast. “I know. I don’t think I’ve ever _been_ this hungry!”

“Well you could certainly use the energy,” He grinned. “What’s that saying that people are always on about?”

 _“Eating for two_ ,” She mumbled amid her mouthful of pancakes.

Putting down his fork, he sat back content in the silence to watch her.  

“What?” She looked up.

“Nothing,” he smiled handsomely. “I’m just…” He shrugged.

“Happy?” 

“Happy, ecstatic, over the moon,” He listed. “Every synonym in the book.”

Appetite satisfied for the moment, she sat back, hands over her stomach, and happily met his gaze. “Me too.”

The clock in the corner caught her eye. _“Oh, Chakotay!”_ She yawned suddenly. “We have to get going soon.  It’s already eleven thirty.”

“It won’t take us more than fifteen minutes to get there from here. Should we go for a walk?”

“Sure,” She yawned again. “It might wake me up!”

“This is your fault, you know,” He teased as he got out his wallet to pay the bill.

“Oh, it is, is it?”

“Mmm. If it wasn’t for you, I would have gotten some _sleep_ last night!”

 She laughed as they made their way down Main Street to the small park at the edge of the town centre, “I certainly didn’t hear you complaining!”

“I can’t get over how warm it is,” He sighed as they crossed the street into the park.

It seemed as though the whole town had come out this morning in exultant jamboree of the warm beginning of spring. Dogs ran off their leashes, young people lay out on towels, basking in the heat of the sun. There were elderly couples sitting on benches looking on, and the sound of children’s laughter and amused high-pitch squeals coloured the tepid air.  As they walked, his arm found its way around her waist and she smiled and held onto it, keeping in there. “It really is a _perfect_ day.”

* * *

She stopped the car in front of the school and turned to him with a frown. “Four o’clock?”

Undoing his seat belt, he leaned over and kissed her soundly. “Yes,” He replied against her lips.

She caught him once more before he pulled away. “I don’t want you to go."

He moved his body closer to the boundary between the seats while his hand moved lower on her abdomen. “I don’t want to go. _But,_ ” He kissed her again before he pulled away.

“I know.  I have to do a few errands in town today. And I have to run to the grocery store. Is there anything you want?”

“No,” He shook his head. “Nothing special.”

“What do you want for dinner, then?”

“You.” 

She looked up, a silly grin plastered to her features. “Chakotay!”

“What?” He laughed. “It’s true!”

“Fair enough.” 

He heard the school bell ring and the telltale raucous that followed as the students bustled out of their classes. “That’s my queue,” he nodded towards the school as he opened the door.

“Okay,” She smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

Halfway out the truck, he made a decision and in one lightening move he came back to her and persuasively captured her mouth with his own. Tongue licking over her bottom lip, he asked for entrance as his hand came up to tangle in her hair.  A corresponding groan came from the back of her throat as his tongue slid persuasively against hers. “ _Go,_ ” She gasped, breathless, as they separated. “Or we’ll never get out of the car.”

“Okay,” He glinted. “Oh, and I have a surprise for you this evening.”

 _“Oh?”_ She leaned over as he hopped down from the rise. “What is it?”

 _“A surprise, Kathryn._ I’ll see you this afternoon!”


	88. Chapter 88

_“Hello!”_ Bags piled onto each shoulder and a heavy parcel in her hands, Shannon nearly toppled over on her way through the door. _“Henry? Aoiff? Caleb? Is anyone home?”_  

 _“Honey?”_ She heard his distant voice from upstairs. _“I’ll be right down!”_

“No rush!” She called back as the bags blessedly dropped from her tired shoulders. “ _Oof_ ,” There was that sore spot right above her rotator cuff. “Shannon, you’re getting old!”

Light footsteps bounced eagerly into the kitchen. “Mom, did you get my page protectors?”

Shannon looked up in muddled exasperation at her daughter’s sorely lacking manners. “Well hello to you too, young lady!”

“Sorry, Mom,” The young girl grinned sheepishly as she padded over to peck her on the cheek. “Hi, how was your day?” 

“Fine,” Shannon smiled, holding her daughter close for a moment before she rifled in one of the many bags for the requisitioned item. “Here they are. Did you write the report yet?”

“No,” Aoiffe frowned.

“Oh?” She inquired knowingly. “And when is it due?”

“Tomorrow,” She conceded surreptitiously.

“Uh huh,” Shannon nodded, meeting her hangdog gaze. “So what does that mean?”

“That means… that you’re going to write it _for me?”_

“No…” Shannon grinned, shaking her head to the negative. “Try again...”

“That means,”Aoiffe contrived. “That I’m going to march my butt upstairs and write it?”

Shannon nodded knowingly. “That’s right. And, if you start now, then you’ll be done by dinner!”

“Yay…” Aoiffe deadpanned unenthusiastically. “Will you check it over for me when I’m done?”

“Yes,” Her mother nodded as she set on unloading the bags of groceries. “Now, get on it young lady!”

She rolled her eyes and turned towards the staircase, running smack into her father on his way down. “Aoiffe Janeway! Have you begun that report? It’s due tomorrow!”

“I’m on it!” She hurriedly bounded away from any further reprimand as Henry made his way down the stairs.

 _“Well good!_ ” He called back as he walked into the kitchen. _“Dinner’s in an hour!_ Dinner _is_ in an hour, right?” He halted his wife’s movements and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Well hello there,” Shannon smiled, turning to give him a peck on the cheek. “Dinner,” She sighed, looking at the carnage around her. “Might take a little longer than that.”

“Need some help?”

“If you’re offering.” She grinned, resuming her task.

“I am,” He confirmed as he rifled through the bags spread over the floor. “Now.  What’s all this? _Besides_ the groceries…”

“Work,” She answered as she shoved the lettuce in the crisper. “I got a delivery today from Kathryn.”

“Kathryn and Chakotay who came here a few weeks back, Kathryn?”

“The very one! And do you know what?”

“Hmm?”

“Her last name is Janeway. I can’t _believe_ she didn’t tell us!”

“Really?” Henry picked up the envelope addressed to his wife. “Well who would have thought! I wonder why she didn’t mention it?”

“I wonder… I’ll have to ask her.”

“So,” He handed her the bananas before he folded away the canvass shopping bag. “Was her input helpful?”

 _“Helpful?”_ She scoffed. “Henry, she singlehandedly solved the problem that we’ve been having with our environmental controls with the flip of an equation! The woman is pure genius!”

“Have you talked to her yet?”

“No,” Her voice was muffled behind the refrigerator door. “Would you mind getting the wok down from the hangar?”

“Uh,” He looked above the island finding the requested item. “Sure. So?”

“No, I only received that in the mail today. I haven’t even had time to look through all of it.”

“Well you’ll have time tonight,” He added. “What are we making?”

She shrugged, looking at the colourful array of vegetables arranged on the counter. “I was thinking a stir fry. If we don’t use up all of this it’s going to go bad.”

 _“Woks_ for me!” 

"Ha ha," She eyed him ironically. “So how was your day? How was Aoiffe’s game?”

“Good, and good. Her team won.”

“Oh? She didn’t mention it.”

“She never does, Shannon,” Henry set to cutting the vegetables in cubes while his wife took down two wine glasses. “And then Jason came by the store with a few new business schematics that he wants me to look at,” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why.  He knows I’m absolutely useless at that sort of thing! Don’t understand a bit of it; there’s a reason that I leave it all to him!”

“Because,” Shannon tip toed to kiss his cheek. “He cares about your opinion, always has.”

“Mmm,” He nodded gratefully as he looked at his wife. “I’ve got dinner. I know you’re dying to look over the paperwork that Kathryn sent you.”

“Sure?” She grinned almost abashedly, her covetous hand already on Kathryn’s packet.

“Yes,” He smiled, shooing her out of the kitchen. “Now scoot!”

* * *

Mike surveyed the construction site. All in all, he was happy with their progress as they were coming in well under the date that he and Chakotay had initially set for completion. All that was left to do now was install the glass, and that could be done in just a little over one day.

 _“Alright!_ ” He corralled his men. “Great job, boys. After tomorrow we’re just about done! All we’ll have to do is set the windows and do clean up.”

Satisfied expressions came from the crowd. It was gratifying, most of them thought, to see something voided and shapeless come alive under their hands. Most of them were misfits looking for a place to fit in, a job to occupy their time and a crowd, or a family in which to belong. And then some of them were college students, here for the quick money over their break. But when it came to building things, most of them found that it didn’t matter the background, they all found that the work was correlatively rewarding.

“Now,” Mike smiled as they picked up their gear. “We don’t have to be here until nine tomorrow, so you bunch of pansies can sleep in!”  

As they dispersed into separate trucks, they laughed and hollered in reverie, ribbing and patting one another on the back while they spoke crass and facetiously derogatory words of encouragement.

 _“Joey!”_ Mike hollered at the crowd, rousing the attention of one of the boys.

“Yeah?” The heavy-set younger gentleman called back before he got into his car.

Mike waved him over, “Would you mind?” 

Joey shrugged his shoulders and shut the car door, “What’s up, Mike?”

Hand on his back, he turned them around and started walking towards the barn. “Would you mind helping me with something before you go?”

“Yeah sure, Boss,” Joey nodded. “What’s goin’ on?”

Mike pointed up to the barn as they continued walking. “Chakotay asked me to do a favour for him when Kathryn left today at three.”

“Oh?” Joey looked up. “Is that why you’ve been watching the cabin for the last hour?”

“Mmm,” Mike nodded. “He asked me about it yesterday morning.”

“Yeah, where was he this mornin’? He’s usually out there before the rest of us!”

Mike shrugged. “Said he had something to do.”

Mike slid the barn door open and multiple skylights illuminated the cavernous space as Mike and Joey searched for the item in question. “Here we are,” Mike happened upon a large structure covered by a blue tarp.

“What's this?” Joey asked as Mike withdrew the heavy plastic from its surface.

_“Holy shit!"_

_"Fuck..._ The guy’s a friggin' master!” Joey breathed as his fingers ran over the chiselled intricacies.

“You got that right,” Mike shook his head as he rounded the other side. “We’d better get this into the house. Chakotay said they’d be home soon, and he wants this to be a surprise for Kathryn.”

* * *

 

 “Mom!” Aoiffe pattered down the wrought iron staircase with a bunch of pages bustling in the wind she produced in her speedy wake. “I finished my report!”

“Good!” Shannon looked up from the piles of pages in front of her on the dining room table as she slipped off her reading glasses. “Do you want me to look over it?”

“Yes,” the young girl threw her arms around her mother. _“Pleeeeaaseee.”_

Hearing plates and silverware clattering, she looked up and saw her father in the kitchen. “Mom,” Aoiffe groaned. “Please tell me dad didn't cook!”

“Hey!” Henry looked up with a wry grin as he made his way over to the table with a heap of plates in his arms. “I take offense to that, Aoiff!”

“Aoiffe Janeway!” Shannon leaned out of her embrace. “Be nice.”

“I’m just kidding!” Aoiffe rolled her eyes and went to help her father get the glasses out of the cupboard. “But if I don’t survive the night, I’m blaming you!”

“Oh well,” Shannon shrugged as she cleared her work off the table as Henry arranged the plates for dinner. “One less mouth to feed.”

_“Mom!”_

“Aoiffe,” Shannon laughed. “Go get Caleb and let’s eat!”

“Fine,” she smiled as she bustled up the stairs. _“CALEB!_ ” 

“Aoiffe, I said _get_ Caleb not rouse the dead!” Shannon looked lovingly over at her husband. “Where did we get these children?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always wondered if the Stork makes mistakes… How’s Kathryn’s work coming?”

“Brilliant,” Shannon smiled at the pile as she put it up on the kitchen bannister. “She’s been able to solve in a matter of weeks what a team of highly qualified engineers has been struggling with for ten years!”

“A bit of a savant?”

“Or just _sheer genius,_ ” Shannon suggested, bringing over the bowl of rice and setting it in the middle of the table. “Did you make a salad?”

“Uh huh,” Henry nodded back to the kitchen. “Near the fridge. Why don’t you call her up and have her come back down?”

“I was going to,” Shannon replied, setting the salad down next to the rice. “Thank you for making dinner, it looks delicious. Smells good too.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t kill us, like Aoiffe suggested.”


	89. Chapter 89

_“All right!”_ He shouted over the hubbub. _“Bring it in!”_

Their reverie dying as the circle formed , three-dozen sweaty and exhausted teenagers huddled together after a game well played.

“Well everyone,” Chakotay smiled. “Good game. You guys are definitely improving, but- “ The crowd grumbled in unison.  _“But…”_ He kept on over the dismay. “We still have a ways to go before next week.”

Rachel’s face scrunched into a wry sneer. “Next week?”

Leah gave her coach a look. “Yeah, what’s next week?”  

“Next week,” Chakotay’s sanguinity kicked up it a notch. “We’re playing _Huntston_.”

Shocked gasps were elicited from the tired troupe. “Are you _kidding_?” Brian gawked. “Huntston? They’re going to _murder us!_ Whose idea was it for us to play them?”

“Well,” Chakotay paused, glancing back and forth. “Mine.”

“Are you kidding?” Megan glowered. “No offence, Coach, but we’ve only been playing for _three_ weeks now. We’re _hardly_ ready to take on a team like that!”

 _“Yeah,_ ” Came the apprehensive murmur from the crowd.

“All right,” He held his hands up in surrender. “Will everyone calm down? It’s only a skirmish! I thought it would be good for you to get some experience playing other teams before we kick back up in the fall. It’s not a tournament, or even a real game. It’s just for fun!”

 _“Fun?”_ Alex rolled her eyes. “Fun would be a root canal without anaesthesia compared to being steamrolled by Huntston!”

"Okay, okay!" He quieted the bleary crowd once more. “Listen, I wouldn’t have set this up if I didn’t think you could handle it. Plus, we still have another week of practice, and you’ll only be playing their junior varsity team. So, what’s the harm?”

The crowd shrugged glumly, most rolling their eyes, and he heard a few _“loss of dignity”_ lines.

The distant sound of wheels on gravel drew his attention to the parking lot where Kathryn had just pulled up. She waved to him, smiling, as he caught her eye. “Well,” He simpered, turning back to the group. “ _Uh-“_

“Hot date, Coach?” Jeremy piped up from the back causing the group to snigger and holler.

He almost blushed as he glanced back and saw her get out of the truck. “Something like that...”

She smiled broadly as she walked towards him, but halted her movement and waited for him just at the edge of the field.

 _“Girlfriend?”_ Meg suggested.

He laughed and turned back. “No,” He huffed gratefully, shaking his head. “Now scoot you guys! I’ll see you on Monday!”

* * *

 _“Figures,_  Rachel shrugged as she listlessly peeled off her cleats and socks before holding her nose and ripping off her shin pads.

“What?” Liz gave her a look as she shoved her cleats into the cubby.

“A guy like coach would be with someone like her.”

“The lady on the edge of the field?” Meg suggested while she fished for her keys.

“Mmm,” Rachel responded obtusely with another defeated shrug of her shoulders. _“It just figures…_ ”

* * *

“Hi there."

“Hi yourself,” He glowed, taking her hand and pulling her to him.

“You ready to go home, _Coach_?” She looked around, making sure there were no students before her hand possessively found purchase on his waist.

“Just about,” He kissed the bridge of her nose before surreptitiously glancing down at the watch on his wrist, making sure Mike had enough time.

The last of the students had vacated the field as they walked back to the school building proper. “How about a quick tour?” He suggested.

Kathryn stopped suddenly mid-step. _“Chakotay,_ ” she leered. “It’s been _five hours_ since I dropped you off; _six and a half_ since we got married.”  He couldn’t suppress the grin that came over his features as she continued. “And at the risk of sounding uninterested and impolite – are you kidding? A tour? _Now?_ ”

He laughed, shaking his head abashedly as he tried to act naturally so as not to arouse her well-honed suspicion. “Humour me?”

She smiled wryly to hide her frustration at the absurdity and shrugged, “Fine. Lead the way!”

He grabbed her hand a little tighter as they walked through the pristine halls of the school. “ _Oh,_ Chakotay!” She beamed, looking around at the artwork that lined the bright hallways. “This is wonderful!”

She stopped in front of an oil painting of an open wheat field. In it, there were two girls in white dresses staring out over the golden expanse with a large white barn out in the periphery. “This reminds me of something Phoebe would paint. Her lines,” Kathryn traced the fine paint strokes that comprised the individual streaks of the crop. “They were always simple and clean, but they said so much. She could tell a hundred stories with one painting,” She laughed. “That’s what my mother used to say.”

He moved closer to her and drew a stray strand of auburn from her eye and he remembered the things she would paint – pastures, people. Home.  “You were always a good painter, Kathryn.” She shrugged and looked away, not really believing his compliment.  “Why did you stop?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I got tired,” She whispered despondently. “But maybe now…” After a moment’s thought, she turned to him, her vigour somehow renewed. “Maybe now I’ll start again.”

He nodded, and laid a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s go home.”

 _“Hey, Coach!”_ A lanky teen called from down the hall as the pair made their way out. _“Wait up!”_

“Kyle,” Chakotay stopped and turned. “What’s up?”

“Have you decided the starting line up for next week’s game?”

“I have a few ideas. Are you interested?”

“Well,” Kyle averted his gaze, a little unsure of his request. “I was hoping you’d put me in as goalie. I mean I know I’m not as good as-”

“Sure,” Chakotay conceded as they made their way out into the cool afternoon air. “That’d be fine.”

A huge grin came over the boy’s features. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll see you Monday!” He turned quickly to Kathryn before he left. “Umm…”

Chakotay looked on amused at the teen’s awkwardness. “This is my wife, Kathryn.”

 _His wife. Kathryn._ The words came so naturally to him as though they’d been sitting on the tip of his tongue for an eternity.

“Oh,” The young man covered , trying not to ogle her as he awkwardly put out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice, to meet you, Kyle,” Kathryn smiled at his juvenile gawkiness as she greeted him.

“You too,” He gawped before turning to his own car. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday, Coach. Thanks.”

“Have a good weekend, Kyle,” He smirked as the teen bustled into his beater, waved, and drove off.

“So, am I driving, or are you?”

“You are,” She dropped the keys in his palm with a sly wink.

He caught her wrist before she moved off and pulled her back to him. _“Hey."_

“Hey yourself,” Her arms found their way around his neck. _“I liked the sound of that,_ ” She murmured before her lips met his.

“The sound of what?”

“Of being your _wife._ ”


	90. Chapter 90

She turned to him as they pulled onto the long driveway. “I’ve been wracking my brain all day…”

“Oh?” He glanced over at her as they passed by Jan and Gregg’s. _“And?”_

“And I can’t figure it out. What’s the surprise?”

“Hm,” He shook his head and covertly inspected the cabin. Mike and the boys were gone, and his phone had just buzzed in his pocket.  Assumedly Mike had given him the _all clear._ “It’s a surprise.”

 _“Chakotay_ ,” She lightly hit his arm as he turned off the ignition. “Why can't you tell me?”

"Because," He spoke slowly like he would to a young child.  "It's a-"

" _Surprise,"_ She glowered.  "Why can't you tell me now?"  

His only response was a big grin as he turned and jumped down from the truck's rise.  Coming around to her side, he opened her door, but blocked her escape. “Close your eyes, Kathryn,” He told her.  

 _“Close my eyes?”_ She crossed two arms over her chest, indignant as she kept his stare.  "Tell me."  

 _“Kathryn,"_ He threw his head back in consternation with his joy not nearly tamped. “I _promise_ I’ll make sure you don’t trip on the stairs.  Just _please_ will you just close your eyes?”

“Okay,” She breathed uncertainly as her eyelids tentatively fluttered shut.

“And _keep_ them closed," He admonished. "I don’t want to see you _peeking!”_

Her arms came up in question as though she was overcompensating. “Now _why_ would _I_ do that?”

He took her hands in his and walked them the short distance to the cabin. “So it’s been in the house all day and I haven’t noticed it?"  

 _"Uh huh,_ " Chakotay barely tamped down an audible sigh of relief when he stepped into the house and saw how impeccable it looked. He had been worried during initial construction that it wasn’t going to fit, and that even if it did it might be ill suited and disproportionate to their meagre home.  Before showing her, he took a moment to examine it by himself. He could recall each flourish of his chisel and every plume of his wrist; every stroke and every image he’d etched with her in his mind. Each of the carven engravings said something about her, or them together. 

 _“Chakotay?”_ He heard a smile in her voice accompanying the impatient tug of her hand. “Can I open my eyes now?"

He held up his hand up to her eyes as he led her through the small doorway into their bedroom. “Okay,” He whispered, letting his palms fall back to his side. _“Open.”_

" _Oh!"_ It took her a few moments to adjust to the light and the novelty in front of her. For a second, she hesitated, blinking as she allowed herself ample time to adjust to the sight before her. “ _Chakotay_ ,” Baby steps brought her over to the head of the bed. “It’s absolutely-" Her breath caught in her throat as she touched the marvellous piece.  "It's absolutely beautiful.”

“You like it?”

She shook her head, still in a dazed state of incredulity. “It’s perfect.”

And it was. What indeed was just a mattress on a box spring had been transformed into bed framed with the most beautiful scaffold of roughhewn oak. Inlaid within the wood were intricately chiseled engravings.  She could make out a peace rose, her favourite flower and something with significance to them as a couple. The stem of the rose flowed into the shape of Voyager, which blended seamlessly with an effigy of the ValJean. Coming up to the centre of the outlay was a tracing of New Earth with her two moons in orbit. And near the middle, the stylised figurine of a monkey swayed from a hanging branch, while a sonorously overgrown crop of Talaxian tomatoes twisted underfoot.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers reverentially outlined each individual carving. “So, this is what you were working on,” She whispered as she felt his weight depress the space next to her.

“Yes," He told her. "I wanted to give you a proper bed.”

“But,” She examined the way the figures stopped halfway before turning to him. “It’s not finished.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair before tracing a line down her neck and over her breast to deferentially settle over her growing bump. “Our story isn’t finished.”

That crooked smile tilted her lips as she looked at him. _"Thank you."_  Her arms weaved around his neck as she held him to her and kissed her way along the smooth line of his neck to his lips.  His mouth opened under hers and for languid moments their tongues danced gratefully over one another.  

Cognisant not to put too much of his weight on her, he pushed her back against the softness of the mattress. “Are you sure," She laughed as a thought came to her.   "That you made this frame sturdy enough?”

“We’ll see,” He bit his lip and shared in her gaiety. “If we don’t hear a crack, we’re in the clear.”

She guffawed as her head rolled back onto the bed,“That _would_ happen to us!”  Her reverie, though, quickly metamorphosed into a healthy dose of lust when she felt his fingers at the button on her jeans. Primed with hours of anticipation, she lay back as he quickly pulled away her trousers and panties with one solid manoeuvre.  “ _Hey!_ " She pointed to the lace hanging off one ankle.  "I had intended to seduce you with those."

His hands quickly moved to the waistband of his athletic pants before he pulled them down and caught sight of the lace panties as his own garments fell atop them. “ _Kathryn,_ ” He gave her a look and reefed his T-shirt over his head before tumbling back down onto the bed. “You don’t need special underwear to seduce me. You could do _that_ just _fine_ in a paper bag.”

“Good thing they weren't expensive,” She laughed against the pillow. 

Laying next to her, he stayed his harried movements enough to savour this moment with her.  "Hey," She looked over at him as she removed the last of her clothing.  "What happened?"  

An arm drew her down next to him and for the moment he savoured the feeling of her bare skin against his own.  "Nothing," He kissed her.  "I just want to take a minute."  

"Oh," She smiled and turned against him, pressing her lips against the soft skin of his shoulder.  "Can you believe it?"  

"That the bed hasn't broken?" He joked.  

She gave him a wicked look.  "We'll test _that_ theory in a few minutes.  No, that we're married."  

The words brought instant dimples to his cheeks.  " _Married_ ," Not for the first time he luxuriated in the sweetness of the word on his tongue.  

"Yes," Kathryn laughed.  "Married."  

"So what do you think?"  Their breaths mingled in the small space on the shared pillow.  

"What do I think about what?"  Hands trailed over bare skin, touching, subtly arousing.  

"Being married to me."

"Oh," She nodded seriously.  "Well so far it's good."  

There was that smile again as his lips nipped at the sensitive skin of her neck while hands designed their own trail of passion. _"Just_ good?"  

"Well," She gasped as wandering fingers travelled lower down her abdomen, circling in the wetness pooling at the apex of her thighs.  "It's getting better..."  

"Uh huh," He muffled a tiny laugh as he kissed his way down her chest, stopping to drowse at her breasts.  "What about now?"  

Eyes closed, she held him against her and small gasps of pleasure escaped with his every movement until he stopped and met her eyes again. " _Much better."_

She felt his hands at her knees, nudging them apart before he settled between them.  "And now?" He asked again against her lips.  

Too busy tracing the contours of his mouth with her tongue, she ignored the question until he pulled away again and waited for her answer as he kept her eyes and slowly slid into her.  "What about now?"  

 _"Now,"_ Her breath was shaky with overwhelming pleasure.  "Now I couldn't think of anything better."   

 


	91. Chapter 91

Kathryn laughed, her forehead falling against the warm skin of his chest.“Don’t even _try_ , Chakotay!” 

He shook his head against the pillow as he raised his hands in surrender. “Did I say anything?”

“You didn’t have to!” The sheet fell down to expose her chest as she propped herself up on her elbow to regard him. “ _…Chakotay_?” She rolled her eyes and pulled the sheet back up. “They’re just breasts!”

“Ah!” He cleared his throat, smirking unabashedly as he caught her hand. _“No._ They’re _yours_.”

She twisted a crooked grin as his hand settled warmly on her chest. _“And...?”_

“And,” Her breast nestled in his palm while he considered her. “They’re, well,  _perfect_.”

She laughed at his ridiculousness as her head fell back against the headboard. "That's a little bit of a stretch."  

"It's _not,"_ He beamed as he captured her smile against his lips. 

“For _goodness sake_ , Chakotay," She pushed him away with a broken laugh as she felt him stir again against her thigh.  "Don’t you ever think of _anything_ else?”

“Other than sex?”

"Yes, other than sex." 

Chakotay cleared his throat and pulled away, as if to earnestly consider her question. “Well let’s see,” He reflected. “I’m _naked_ in bed with my _equally naked wife_ on our _wedding night_ so… _no_.”

“Fair enough,” She leered, moving back to him and seductively coiling one leg around his thigh.

 _“Uh uh_ , Kathryn,” Witholding a smile, he pushed her away. “Only a few seconds ago you were bemoaning my lack of _conversational skills_ in the bed. So…” He wriggled his bottom into the mattress and folded his arms behind his head. “We’re going to finish our conversation.”

"Are you serious?" 

His eyebrows gave a Tuvokian impression of seriousness.  "Oh," He nodded.   _"Extremely."_  

Her only response was to study him intently and draw indistinct patterns on the smooth expanse of his chest.  For the moment, the silence was sufficient.  It was enough just to be with him.  To lay here beside him and feel the heat coming off his skin while a cooling current poured in from the open window.  She thought of what her life might have been like, what she might have been doing at this moment, if they hadn't come here.  No doubt, she would have been on the bridge or in her ready room, shut away not only physically, but emotionally from those around her.  She might never have had this.  Had him.  And just for now, that juxtaposition made this moment all the sweeter.

"Hey," She heard his voice cut through her reverie.

_"Hey."_

"I lost you for a minute there."

"No," She shook her head.  "I was here with you. Thinking about you.”

“What about me?”

"Just," She paused.  "How things might have been different." 

"If we hadn't come here?" 

"Yes," She nodded, pulling away so she could look him in the eye.   “How did we get to be _that way?_ ”

"I suppose..." He breathed in her honesty before he answered her.  “I _suppose_ I was just angry with you.”

“Angry,” She let the word percolate before she copied him. “I suppose was angry with you, too. Chakotay?”

"Yes, Kathryn?" He tangled his fingers in her soft hair.  

"Were you going to find someone else?"   

“No,” He told her the truth. “I told myself I was going to try. But I don’t know if I could have.”

“You _certainly_ wouldn’t have had any trouble." 

He snorted,choking on his saliva. “Is _that_ what you think?” He coughed. “No woman on that ship would have touched me with a _ten foot pole!”_

She laughed at his theatrics, _"Liar."_

“And what would you have done,” He asked seriously. “If I had?”

“If you had moved on?” She thought on the answer that she'd never let herself consider before. “I always knew that it was a possibility."

His hand left the softness of her hair to draw light circles on the skin above her collarbone. “But?” 

“Well,” She cleared her throat. “I never let myself think about it before.  But I would have been _heartbroken_ ,” She said without a moment's thought. “Just like I was every time I saw you with someone else.  And if I had?" 

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Chakotay," She met his warm, expressive gaze. "Do you think we gave up too easily?”

"On Voyager?" 

"Yes," She nodded.  "When we came here.  Did we give up too easily?" 

“No,” He replied. “What else could we have done? The shuttle was gone. There was no way for us to send a message, or a beacon."  

"I know. Chakotay?”

He smiled and answered her.   _"Yes, Kathryn."_  

"I'm glad, you know," Her fingers tangled in curling midnight locks.  "I'm glad we're here together."  

His arm slid low on her waist as he moved over her.  "So am I," He whispered against her skin.  

“I love you,” She told him before a wave of incoherent lust carried her away.  

"I know," He kissed her again.  "I love you too."  Abruptly, the loud growl of his stomach pierced the moment. _“Sorry,”_ He grinned, pulling away sheepishly.

She smiled before she kissed him again. “I nearly forgot.  I made dinner.”

_“Really?”_

She snorted and nudged his shoulder to push him off before dipping down into the pile at the end of the bed and slipping his t-shirt on. “Stop it. It didn’t look half bad this time!”

He got up after her, sliding his boxers on before meandering after her into the kitchen. "Oh? I'm intrigued." 

“Mmm,” she nodded, pulling the casserole dish out of the fridge. “Not half bad, if I do say so myself!”

“No,” he shook his head as he peered at the dish over her shoulder. “It actually looks edible.”

"Consider it a wedding present," She laughed, taking the plates down from the cabinet.  "A night free from indigestion."  


	92. Chapter 92

_"Chakotay!"_ Mike's gregarious exclamation accompanied the rough sound of trucks against gravel as Chakotay made his way out of the recreation centre to meet the crew. _"Chakotay!"_ Mike jumped down from the high rise of his pickup before bounding over to his friend, "Gregg told me the news when I ran into him in town. Why the hell didn't you tell us?"

 _"Yeah,"_ Rang the fragmented dejections of the crew. _"What the heck, man?"_ A few of them laughed.

"What?" Chakotay smiled, holding his hands in surrender.  

A big arm came to wrap squarely around his shoulders. "We would have given you a proper bachelor party, you know.  Beer, wings, strippers… _the works!"_

The younger men nodded their laughing propitiation. "No, no, no," Chakotay shook his head and waved his hands in morbidly amused objection.

"Come on!" Mike ribbed, laughing at his friend's embarrassment.

"Absolutely _not,_ Mike," Chakotay was humorously adamant.  

"My friend, you've got to _live_ a little!" He turned back to the boys as his hand tightened on Chakotay's shoulder while they made their way up to the site. "What's that saying you guys are always on about? Fro yo?"

"Yolo," Andrew laughed. " _Fro yo_? The fuck Mike?"

"God, I can't keep up with these kids. It's bad enough I have two at home!"

"On a more serious note, Mike," Chakotay stopped walking and turned to the older gentleman. " _Thank you_ for the bed. I can't tell you how much I appreciated it. If there's anything-"

"Don't mention it!" Mike slapped his back and goaded him back on their trail. "That's what friends are for. So tell me," He lowered his voice. "What did Kathryn think?"

"She loved it," Chakotay gleamed.  

"She knows she's lucky, right? I'd never make Gail headboard!"

"No," He replied in earnest as he tugged typically on his right earlobe. _"I'm_ the one who's lucky."

 _"Well damn,_ " Mike breathed. "Hey, Chakotay?"

"Mmm?" 

"Listen, I've never seen anything like that headboard.  How long did that take you?"

"A few months," He shrugged. "Two weeks to carve out the skeleton, sand it down.  The finer details took the most time." 

"A _few months_?" Mike huffed in disbelief as they entered the nearly finished building. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"My father, mostly." 

"Have you ever considered selling your work? You could make some pretty decent money at it..."

Chakotay smiled and shook his head, "No." 

"Why the hell not?" Mike sniggered.  "You're a master at it."  

"It's just a hobby, Mike," He shrugged. "Nothing else."

"Well think about it..." He encouraged with another slap to the back. "But what am I saying? You've just gotten married, and you've got more than enough going on at the school! Oh, Brian and Liz can't stop singing your praises by the way."

"Oh?" 

"All the kids, really – whatever you're doing is working, my friend. Brian's never been so interested in sports and Liz has actually learned what the world looks like beyond the screen of that damn iPhone!"

"They're great kids, Mike," Chakotay smiled as he meandered over to the new glass that they'd put up just two days before. "So, all we have to do is put the sealant on today, right?"

"Uh yeah," He agreed. "Looks good, Chakotay."

Chakotay grinned in satisfied approval as he appraised the work of their hands. "I think so too. Gregg and Jan are pleased. I showed them around on Friday."

"Oh yeah," Mike concurred. "Gregg's thrilled. I don't think that any of this would have gotten done if they didn't have you and Kathryn here. You two are real lifesavers for this place. You know," He told him earnestly. "They were even talking to me and a few others about shutting it down, or selling it after this summer before you two showed up."

"Oh?  This was news to him.  "I never knew..."

"Well," Mike changed the subject to something decidedly less saturnine. "We'd better finish this up. The boys and I've got a job up in Bloomington later on this morning."

"Well," Chakotay smiled, reminded of his own time constraints. "Let's get to work then."

* * *

 _"Looks good."_ He heard rather than saw her smile.  Preternaturally he could picture the sway of her hips coupled to the fine set of her jaw and the wicked glint in her eyes. For a long time, he'd catalogued her.  Like his mind was a holocamera, he'd snapped every mannerism, every idiosyncratic gesture. He knew every doldrum, but also every smile; every desolated sorrow and tear, but also every beaming note of glorious laughter.

"Yes," He grinned, stepping back and admiring the finished work.  It truly was spectacular. What had only two weeks ago been a dreary, humdrum wooden structure was now somewhat of a work of art with angled windows glinting in the light of the midmorning sun and mirroring the pristine azure surface of the placid lake. "We did a good job."

 _"Mmm_ ," Her arms wrapped around his waist while her head fell against his shoulder blade. "But," She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I _wasn't_ talking about the _building."_

A loud guffaw sounded from his belly as he turned to envelope her in his arms. " _You,_ Kathryn Janeway, are very wicked. Did you know that?"

"Some things never change," She countered wryly as her hands smoothed down over his back to suggestively settle on the warm dimpled skin just under his shirt. "But, I was thinking…"

 _"You were thinking?"_  

Her hands moved lower to dip just underneath the loose waistband of his jeans, "I was thinking, that we've got two hours until you've got to be at the school, and..."

_"And?"_

"And we're all alone…"

"Mmhm," His hands began their own exploration under her shirt to find purchase on the warm skin over her ribcage.

"So I was _thinking,_ " She smiled as those hands travelled higher to tickle the delicate skin under her breast.

 _"You were thinking?"_  

Kathryn leaned up to whisper something in his ear, giving him pause as the words sank and dilated his pupils. _"So?"_  

He laughed before catching her midstride as she walked away, sweeping her off her feet, and carrying her into the house."So, what are we waiting for?" 


	93. Chapter 93

His voice was muffled from under his T-shirt as he hurriedly pulled it over his head. _“I still can’t believe it’s next month!”_  

“I know,” She coughed, hurriedly scouring the floor for her trousers. “Are Mike and the crew going to be done with the last few cabins in time, you think?”

“Have you seen my sweatpants?”

 _“Here,”_ She tossed them over her shoulder. “Give them to me after today so that I can wash them.”

He looked quizzically at the pants as he slipped them on. “They’re not dirty.”

“Yes they are,” She pointed. “Look at the hem and the bum. There are grass and mud stains.”

“Oh,” He looked as though it was his first time.

Peripherally, he heard her speaking, rambling in her usual way about something that was likely important. But just for the moment he was pleased to be ignorant, and watch nimble fingers celeritously weave together auburn strands while she moved around the room, prattling on and taking inventory of what needed to be done during the day.  He shifted his gaze downwards to her abdomen where day after day, he’d look to see how much she was growing. 

_“Chakotay?”_

He looked up, sheepish. _“Hmm?”_

Hand on her hip she regarded him with a familiar crooked grin as she tied an elastic around the base of her plait. “Have you heard a _word_ that I said?”

The boyish grin widened, “Uh, no.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kathryn smirked. Rounding to his side of the bed, and kissed him lightly on his upturned lips. 

“I was thinking about something.”

“What?”

“Just things. The way you braid your hair, the mess in the house, your piles…”

“ _My piles?”_ An eyebrow raised in question.

“Your piles.  Little heaps of books and papers.”

“I do not have pi-“ He pointed to the bed table where a stack of applications sat precariously topped with a worn paperback book and a precipitously placed coffee cup. “Well,” She shrugged nonchalantly. “You know what I always say.”

“Oh?” He laughed, getting up off the bed to find his runners and slip them on. “What do you say, Kathryn?”

“A little disorganization is-”

“Good for the imagination?” He finished.

“Exactly.”

“Now,” He held out his hands and pulled her from the bed. “What were you saying before?”

“Oh, yes," They sauntered out of the room to the door. "Uh, _what_ was I talking about?”

Bounding down the few steps, he chuckled. “I don’t know. I asked you.”

Locking the door, she laughed out loud. “What happened to the steadfast and _focused_ first officer who picked up my slack?”

“I saw you naked,” He deadpanned.  

 _“Oh,”_  She nodded, climbing into the passenger’s seat. “That’s right.”

“We were talking about whether Mike and his team were going to finish on time for May twenty fourth. I think so,” He shrugged. “His crew is halfway done with cabins four and ten, which were the ones most in need of repair.”

“Good,” She nudged his hand with the keys in it. “We have to get going, or you’re going to be late.”

“Right,” He glanced at the digital readout before starting the car. “Weren’t you saying something else about an appointment?”

She turned to him, “So you were listening?”

“Of course, I was, Kathryn. How else do you think I managed for six years?”

She sat back in the seat, blissfully defeated. “You, my friend, are full of surprises. And yes the day after tomorrow at nine o’clock we have our first appointment with the doctor.”

“Really?” He smiled, turning off the main road to the street near the school.

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Jan said something about an ultrasound and blood tests.  Do you really think it's a girl.”

"I _know_ it's a girl.”

“You and that _Indian intuition.”_

He laughed, taking one hand off the wheel to wrap his fingers around hers. “Nothing _Indian_ about it, I just know we’re having a girl.”

“What if it’s a boy?” 

“It’s _not_ , but if it is,” He told her. “I’ll be just has happy.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Isn’t your big game today?”

"The day after tomorrow,” He corrected grimly as he turned off the ignition and sat back in the seat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.  I thought it was a good idea having the kids play against a real team. They’ve learnt all each other’s weaknesses at this point so they know what to anticipate. And that’s no way to practice. I thought that playing against a team like Huntston would be a good opportunity to get out there and experience what it’s like to play a match. But now…”

“Now?”

“Now I don’t know if it’s going to be a confidence boost or a confidence killer.”

“Too bad you don’t have a holodeck.”

“Mmm,” He laughed. “I’ll just tell them to hold off for a few hundred years.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Chakotay.” She leaned over the armrest and kissed the hair on his temple. “It’s a good opportunity, and you never know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” He whispered, turning his face to her. “I’ll see you later.”

“Ok,” she whispered. “What do you want for dinner?”

A cheeky grin overtook his features.

“ _Don’t even say it, Chakotay,_ ” She smirked.

“What?” He deferred with a mischievous leer.

“You _know_ what.”

Hearing the bell ring, he quickly unbuttoned his seatbelt. “We’ll make something together. Just enjoy your day.”

“Chakotay!” She called after him as she clamoured out on her own side.

 _“I’ll see you later,_ ” He winked. _“I love you!”_


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BIG thanks to everyone reading and those leaving kudos and feedback. Love you guys :).

“Shannon!”

 _“Jeez, Lukas!_ ” Shannon jumped in her seat, spilling her coffee and grimacing at the hot liquid on her hand. “You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry,” The young man spoke breathlessly. “Jerry wants to see you in his office when you get a chance.”

“Oh?” She rummaged in her drawer for her pile of takeaway napkins. “Maybe he’s _finally_ looked over the packet I left on his desk last week!”

“Dunno,” Lukas shrugged. “But he seemed pretty excited.”

“Well good,” She brushed the last of the coffee off her black slacks. “Is he in his office now?”

“Yeah,” He nodded. “I just came from there.”

Hazy grey light illuminated the corridors as the pair walked to the end of the hall. “I _love_ this rain,” Shannon smiled at the young boy walking briskly next to her. “It reminds me that Spring is coming.”

“Yeah,” Lukas shrugged as he looked out the large windows lining the long hall. “I just wish I was home in bed so that I could enjoy it. Anyhow,” He turned veered off to his cubicle. “Talk to you later, Shannon.”

“Thanks Lukas,” She smiled as she caught Jerry’s eye.

Jerry Banks was one of the chief engineers who had been involved in the Gate project since its inception. Heavy set and slightly balding, he was gregarious and jolly. Educated at Cal Tech in the seventies, he had four advanced degrees including two doctorates. No one would have known, however, as he nearly wore only jeans, some variation of a Metallica T shirt, and a pair of Nike's he'd had since the nineties to work every day.  

 _“Shannon!”_ Jerry smiled as she opened the glass door. “Weather’s absolutely crap, today, huh?”

“I was just telling Lukas how much I liked it.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled as he fished in the pile of papers piled precariously heaped of varying states of disarray before he found his intended target: the manila envelope she’d given him a few days ago. “How are Henry and the kids?”

“Good.”

“Good,” He breathed, sitting back and giving her a big toothy smile while holding up the tattered parcel. “This is, excuse my French, _fucking brilliant._ Did you do this?”

“No,” She shook her head, giving him that grin.

“Well, _whatever_ ,” He covered. “This solves the problem we’ve been having with our environmental repurposing system _for years_! Who the hell figured this out? If I’d have known it was just a simple flip of a few equations… well I don’t know I’d be richer than I already am!”

“A friend,” Shannon laughed. “She sent it to me a few days ago and before I called her I wanted you to look over it. Genius, isn’t it?”

 _“Genius?_ " Jerry gave a drole look.  "That’s the understatement of the century, So who’s this friend?”

“Kathryn Janeway." 

“Relative?”

“No,” She shrugged. “At least I'm not sure. We only met once.  She and her partner had dinner with Henry and I back in February. She mentioned she was an engineer and knew about the _Botzman Method._ I asked her to take a look at our work and sent her what we had, _and_ ” she pointed. _“That’s_ what she came up with.”

“Amazing," Jerry shook his head. "Well that was a lucky meeting if I’ve ever heard of one.”

“I know,” Shannon gestured into the air.

“Does she live in Indiana?”

“Arcadia.”

 _“Arcadia?_ Where the _hell’s_ Arcadia?”

“North of here by three hours.”

“Well whatever,” He waved. “Just get her in here. I want to talk with her, pick her brain. I mean I’ve got two PhD’s in mechanical and bioengineering, you’ve got a doctorate from MIT, and even Ted the _boy genius_ couldn’t even solve this. Not to mention everyone else! I want to know _who_ this Kathryn Janeway is, _where she came from_ , and I want to _talk_ to her.”

Shannon nodded, amused with his antics. “I’ll give her a call.”

“Make sure that you do, Shan," He leaned forward in his seriousness. "Imagine how much _more_ this place could become if we fixed the glitches. We could stop focusing on the damn environmental controls and put that money to use somewhere else!”

Shannon grinned and made her way out. _“I’m on it!”_

* * *

“Jan!” Grace Thompson set her tray down in the cafeteria next to Jan’s. “Is someone sitting here?”

“You are,” Jan nodded to the seat next to her and took a sip of her soda. “How’s the day, Grace?”

“ _Oh,”_  The younger woman sunk into the chair, a vein of relief passing over her features. “Not too bad, but my feet are killing me. Remind me why I’m wearing heels?”

Jan shrugged, swallowing a bolus of salad. “Your funeral,” She winked. “When are you _young ones_ going to learn that running around after patients, especially in your field, is _not_ the best time to break in your new three inch heels?”

“Do you know how _short_ I am, Jan?” Grace laughed. “Besides,” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Have you seen the new orthopod fellow?”

 _“Oh, Grace,_ ” Jan laughed, shaking her head and taking another swig of her drink.

“Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Anyhow, who’s this patient I’m seeing tomorrow?”

“Kathryn?”

_“Mmm."_

“She and her husband run our camp.”

“Oh?” Grace grinned. “Young couple?”

“No, forties.”

Grace sat back, face quizzical as she wiped the crumbs from her chin. “First baby?”

“Mmm,” Jan nodded.

“It’s a little old for the first time, but,” She shrugged. “Not unheard of. What are they like?”

Jan grinned, “You’ll see them tomorrow.”

“Now I know there’s something, Jan. _Spill!_ ”

“Nothing,” Jan prodded blithely. “Just don’t go flirting with her husband.”

“Oh? My type?”

 _“Everyone’s_ type,” Jan chuckled. “But a perfectly lovely couple.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I think I see them first thing in the morning,” She glanced down at her watch. “I’d better go. I can feel it in my bones when my pager’s going to go off, and I have a caesarian in twenty minutes.”

“Go,” Jan shooed, gathering her own items and walking towards the bin. “I’ll drop in tomorrow morning when the two of them are in to say hello.”

“All right,” Grace waved. “See you later, thanks for the chat.”

* * *

“I think I’ve listened to every version of this song,” Kathryn considered, smiling and appreciating the timbres in the young woman’s voice and the subtle inflections of her Italian accompanied by the gentle harmony of the strings in the orchestra. “My mother loved opera. She said it was like musical math," She chuckled at the memory.  "We had a piano downstairs in the living room. My father gave it to her as an anniversary gift. I tried to play it when I was younger, but I never had the ear for it.  What about you, Chakotay?” She shifted towards him on the bed. “Did you ever play an instrument?”

“No,” He deferred. “I was never musical in the slightest, and I never even really tried apart from the recorder when I was a little boy." 

“I wish that I’d taken more of an interest in it. Remember Harry and the _KimTones?_ ” The memory of the ragtag group made them both smile in remembrance. “Or even the Doctor and Seven-“

_“Seven?”_

“Mmm,” She remembered. “She used to sing with the Doctor in the cargo bay.”

“She did?” He gawked. “I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. Never. I honestly didn’t know she had interests other than…” 

 _“Than being Seven?”_ Kathryn offered laughingly.

“Exactly.”

Reaching forward she pressed repeat on the album. “I still can’t get over that this young lady is _only twelve!”_

“Younger,” He corrected. “According to Gregg.”

“Her voice is _incredible._ ”

“A prodigy.”

“Mmm,” She agreed. “I’d like to see that concert recording. There’s something so much more captivating about a musical performance when you can hear  _and_ see it.”

“I remember Tom and Harry going to an old American rock concert on the holodeck. They were talking about it the next morning on the bridge and Harry said something similar; that even though he'd listened to the album over and over again, it only became real when he saw it.”

“I loved the holodeck, but-“ She lost her train of thought trying to find the essence of her position.

“There was always something empty,” He offered, based on his own experience. “Something missing.”

 _“Yes,”_ She agreed, her hands coming out to gesticulate, indicating her thought. “It was always good for historical reenactments like DaVinci’s studio, or even,” she shuddered. “The Hirogen’s simulation of World War II. But in some respects, I think it took something from us.  Made us lazy.”

“Lazy how?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” She said. “It’s a fine piece of technology. It’s made running tactical simulations seamless and realistic.  It completely revolutionised cadet training and made it safer and more efficient, among other things. But in some ways it’s overused, abused even. That universe is... _addicting."_ She quieted, remembering her own not too distant infatuation with the technology in Fair Haven’s very own barkeep Michael Sullivan. He charmed her with his demeanour, his character. In so many ways he was like Mark.  But she had _programmed_ him to fit that image.  

What an odd point in their lives. Looking back on that time now, she felt as though she was looking at a different Kathryn. Well, she conceded, that _was_ a different Kathryn. But it was also a different Chakotay. Hadn’t he blatantly encouraged her in her ludicrous romance with Sullivan. “Why did you do it, Chakotay?” Her voice was soft and quiet.  

His eyes widened in confusion.  “Why did I do what, Kathryn?

“Encourage my relationship with Michael. Why did you do it? Why didn’t you say anything?”

A wry huff escaped his lips before he lowered the volume on the computer.  “Kathryn, what was I _supposed_ to do?”

“I don't know?"  Her shoulders shrugged in diffidence. “But I certainly hadn’t expected you to push me into the arms of a _hologram!”_

“What did you want me to do? Go to you and tell you that you were being ridiculous?! You had been miserable for months at that point, Kathryn.  At least going to Fair Haven brought you _some measure_ of happiness," His voice grew soft and sad. "I wasn’t going to take that away from you even if I was jealous as hell. Did you _want_ me to say something?“

“I don’t know," Chakotay.  "I don't know what I wanted. But you encouraged me because you thought I was _happier_ with someone else?”

“Yes. I did,” The answer was plain. “Kathryn, I never held any claim over you to begin with.Your life was yours do to with as you pleased. We never said the words to one another," He whispered.  "We never made a promise.”

“There was _always_ a promise,” She whispered.  

"Maybe there was," He said.  "But maybe we forgot.  Why do you want to talk about this now?  It's in the past." 

"I know," She held his gaze.  "I don't know why I brought it up." 

"That wasn't what I mean't," He gave her a smile.  "I'm sorry." 

"For what?" 

"I don't know," He looked away for a moment, fiddling with a piece of loose string on the duvet. "It's hard to look back sometimes." 

"You mean because we hurt each other?" 

"Yes," He said.

"Sometimes," She breathed.  "When I think about it, it feels like it never happened.  Like out lives out there were nothing more than a shared delusion." 

He met her eyes again. "I _was_ jealous about Sullivan." 

"I know," She smiled.  

"I was never very good at hiding the way I felt." 

She laughed at that, running her fingers through his hair.  "No.  And I was a little _too_ good at it." 

"Well not anymore," Chakotay leaned into her touch.  

"No," She shook her head, still laughing.  "As evidenced by the fact that we're pregnant."  

"Mm," He smiled great dimples as he drew her to him.  "And good thing." 

"We should get ready for bed," She whispered with another kiss to full lips before she fumbled off the bed.  "We have an appointment tomorrow." 

"I haven't forgotten," He chuckled. "This is the fourth time you've told me." 

 _"It is?"_ She looked genuinely surprised as she took out her nightclothes.  "I keep forgetting the silliest things." 

 _"It's not a bad thing,"_ He called from the bathroom.  "I think it's called _'baby brain'."_

 _"_ Baby brain?" She nudged him to the side by the sink, holding out her toothbrush for an aliquot of toothpaste once he finished.  

"I don't know what it is," He chuckled, mouth full of white foam.  

"Well whatever it is," She spoke over the running water.  "I seem to have it."  

"You're not really going to change into those," He pointed to the pyjamas in her hand.  

"Yes," She gave him a wry grin as he handed her the hand towel to wipe the water from her lips.   _"Why?"_

"Well," He bargained with full dimples on display.   _"I was sort of thinking...?"_

She laughed, throwing the towel back at him before dropping the clothing in question on the floor.  "You really _never_ do think of _anything_ else, do you, Chakotay?" 

"Um," He shook his head as he walked towards her and started undoing the jeans she was wearing while she did the same with his.   _"No."_  

"I didn't think so," She chuckled, reaching for the hem of his soft T-shirt.  "But you're in luck because  _neither. do. I."_

 


	95. Chapter 95

_“Kathryn,”_ Chakotay placed a hand on her knee to staying her fidgeting. “Calm down.”

“I hate hospitals," She looked at him.  "I always have. Even as a girl."  

“Oh?” He took her hand, laughing as he found some way to distract her. “I _don’t_ believe that.  In fact, I seem to remember _never_ being able to dissuade you from leaving sickbay.”

She looked up at the jousting grin, its sight bringing laughter to her eyes with a sardonic comeback of her own primed when a kind looking nurse in matching pink pants and shirt came to greet them. “Kathryn Janeway?”

“Yes,” Kathryn stood and Chakotay with her.

“Nice to meet you,” She nodded her head towards the back of the office and led them down the bright corridor. “My name’s Leigh, I’m one of the nurses who works with Dr. Thompson. This is your first visit with us, is that right?”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded as the young woman led them into a brightly lit office where several diplomas stood out on the wall.

“Well,” Leigh motioned to the two capacious leather chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat here. Doctor Thompson was just called to the ward, but she shouldn’t be too long. Is there anything I can get you two while you wait?”

“No,” Kathryn shook her head, smiling kindly at the young girl. “Thank you.”

“No problem.  Let me know if you two need anything, okay?”

“Thank you,” Chakotay nodded as the young woman left and closed the door.

“Well,” Kathryn sat back into the leather back of the chair as her eyes scanned the office set up in front of her. “She certainly has a lot of diplomas, certificates…”

 _“Kathryn,”_ He could see it in the set of her jaw, the bore of her eyes, the fine tilt of her shoulders as his hand reached for hers while the fidgeting resumed its earlier frequency.

“Hm?”

“What’s bothering you?”

Abashedly, the rapid movement in Kathryn’s leg came to a halt as she held warm brown eyes. “Nothing,” She smiled.

“No,” He gently contradicted. “You’re _nervous.”_

Defeated, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I never thought it would be like this. Every time I think about this baby, I can’t help feeling…” With her other hand she grappled with the atmosphere to find coherence amid the frenzied vortex of her thoughts. A slight smile tugged at the subtle downturn of her lips before it died with her next thought. “Excited. But at the same time, absolutely terrified. After six years, I never thought I would have a child, and certainly not here in this time where medicine is so different than what we’re used to….”

“Oh, Kathryn,” Chakotay breathed, holding her hand a little tighter. “It’s going to be _fine_ …”  He said the words, hoping his features wouldn’t betray his own nervous agitation. But if he was honest, he would admit to the same.  And his own doubts, namely about his genetics. More times than he could count, his mind had lingered on the incident almost a year ago when the ship had been stranded in chaotic space.  Before that episode, he’d nearly forgotten about the gene as its existence had been inconsequential after his family doctor had silenced the code before he was born. It was only in Chaotic Space, however, that the sequence had reasserted itself and its deleteriously terrifying influence.

_“Chakotay?”_

“Hmm?” He looked up to find two worried eyes boring into him. “Sorry I just-"

 _“Hello!”_ A new voice entered the room to which the couple stood automatically.  

“Oh!” Grace hurried in. “You don’t have to get up! Sorry I’m late!” She looked up from her watch to regard the couple.   _Dear God_ , Grace thought, _Jan was right!_ “It’s so good to meet you both! You know, Jan and Gregg have not stopped singing your praises.”

“Oh?” Kathryn blushed, taking her seat again.  

Chakotay grinned, “They’ve been good to us.”

“They’re great. I wouldn’t have this job if it weren’t for the two of them.”

“How’s that?” Kathryn asked, sitting back and crossing her legs like she did when she was making a decision.

“I did my internship in this hospital, under Gregg for my emergency rotation, and Jan for oncology.  I’m from California originally, but my dad lives out here and when I was looking for a job, I contacted them. And from what I hear, it was their recommendations that helped me get this position. Anyway,” She sighed looking down at the open chart on her desk. “That’s enough about me. So is this your first visit to a doctor since you found out about the pregnancy?”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded, uncrossing her legs and shifting forward in the seat.

Grace ticked a box and wrote something in the chart. “And your date of birth is May twentieth nineteen seventy one, is that right?”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded, doing the math again.

“And is this your first pregnancy?”

“Yes.”

“And when did you find out?”

Kathryn looked over to her husband to corroborate the date. “A few weeks ago, now.  Maybe three or four?”

"And when was your last menstrual cycle?"

"I don't remember," Kathryn shrugged. On the boosters, she bled only a few times a year and sporadically at that. But those seldom cycles had stopped altogether after they had gotten stranded in the Delta Quadrant.  

“Alright.  Not bother, ” Grace nodded.  “And who’s your regular physician?”

“Regular physician?” Kathryn thought to the smug face of the EMH. How could she explain _that one_ away? _He’s a holographic projection from the twenty fourth century. Tall, balding, not a little smug for a hologram… do you know him?_

“We don’t have one,” Chakotay lied. “We’ve always been relatively healthy.” Kathryn stifled a smile, not knowing how he’d maintained such a solemn disposition through the boldfaced lie.

“So when was the last time you saw a doctor?”

“Years ago now,” Kathryn covered.

“Have you been hospitalised before for any medical condition?”

“No,” She lied.

“Any major medical conditions?”

“None.”

“Are you on any medications?”

She couldn’t remember what was in those hyposprays the doctor pressed into her neck at the tail end of those dreaded bi-yearly physicals. And the only medication she’d been on consistently had been the boosters and those were a foregone conclusion at this juncture. "No."

“Any known drug allergies?”

 _Drug allergies?_ “Uh, no,” She scratched her head. “Not that I know of…”

“That’s fine,” Grace ticked another box on the sheet in front of her. “I’m just going to ask you a few questions about your family history, is that all right?”

“Fine,” Kathryn re-crossed her legs, thinking uncertainly to what questions could be asked.

“In general, are there any medical conditions that run in your family?”

Kathryn knew her mother suffered from intermittent migraines, but a quick hypospray had made them moot. “No,” Kathryn shook her head again. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Any neurological conditions?”

Chakotay froze, but kept his features neutral and let Kathryn answer. “No,” She shook her head. “Again, not that I can remember.”

“Any cancers?”

“No.”

“Okay, and are your parents still living?”

“No,” Kathryn cleared her throat, her lie well versed.

“I’m sorry,” Grace looked up, giving her a reassuring look. “How did they pass away?”

“An accident.”

“Again, I’m very sorry.”

Kathryn twisted a familiar half smile while measuredly holding the doctor's gaze. “Thank you.”

“And what about siblings?”

“No,” Kathryn lied again, desperate to avoid any more questions.

“And I’ll just ask you a few quick questions about your social history – do you smoke?”

“No,” Kathryn guffawed. “Absolutely not!”

Grace smiled. “And do you drink?”

“Since getting pregnant?” Kathryn uncrossed and crossed her legs for the third time. “No.”

“And before?”

“Only occasionally.”

“Okay,” Grace looked up at the couple, examining their apprehensive faces before giving them a reassuring smile. “I know it’s a little tedious, but I just like to get an idea of your medical history before we get started.”  She took a deep breath, clearing the air before the committed to her thoughts. “As you both know, it’s rare, but not unheard of to be a first time mom in your forties. From what I can see in your medical history,” She motioned towards the chart in front of her. “And from looking at the two of you, you’re both - _from what I can see_ \- extremely healthy. But, having said that, I’m going to be a little more cautious than I normally would with you and the baby during the next few months.”

“Cautious,” Chakotay shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Cautious how, exactly? Is there anything we should be worried about? Is Kathryn in any danger? Is the baby?”

 _“Chakotay,”_ Kathryn smiled at him, putting her hand on his knee in an effort to alleviate his consternation.

“No, Kathryn,” He looked between them. "Is Kathryn going to be okay?"

Grace smiled reassuringly at Chakotay’s obvious protectiveness of his wife. “There’s no reason to worry, Chakotay. I’m not worried. I only want to take a few more precautions, and maybe see Kathryn at more frequent intervals towards the end of the pregnancy.”

“That’s fine,” Kathryn nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”

“No reason to thank me.  And again,” She eyed Chakotay. “No reason to worry. _So_ ,” She got up from her desk and motioned for them to follow her. “What we’ll do right now is an ultrasound, and that'll give me a better idea of how far along you are. All right?”

“Fine,” Kathryn nodded again as she and Chakotay were brought into the next room.

Grace turned on the fluorescent overhead lights and bent down to turn on the machine. “I’ll have you hop up on his bed right here, please.”

The doctor busied herself at the wall lined with cabinets while Kathryn manoeuvred herself onto the exam table and Chakotay stood off to the side, his face the picture of nervy stupefaction.

 _“Chakotay,_ ” Kathryn mouthed, subtly holding her hand out to him as a familiar asymmetric grin twisted the fine contours of her lips.  

Though she hadn’t meant to, the young physician had planted another seed of apprehension. Before now, he had never considered Kathryn’s age. In their own time, with people living longer lives, it was in fact considered normal for women to bear children well into their fifties without consequence. But in light of _this_ time, he was beginning to become agitated, wondering if this pregnancy was indeed worth the risk is if it brought any harm to her.

Over the few steps they’d made coming into this room, his outlook had a one hundred and eighty degree turn. What had initially been immutable excitement over seeing his child now turned into a sinking sense of something akin to dread.  He turned his gaze to her as he took three measured paces toward the bed to take her hand. “Everything's going to be _fine,_ Chakotay,” She whispered.

“Okay,” Grace fiddled with the machine in front of her. “I’m just going to have you lift your shirt and pull your pants down around your hips.  And now, I’m just going to put a little of this gel on your stomach. Might be a _little_ cold,” She warned

She winced as the cold gel came in contact with the warmth of her skin. “Sorry,” Grace smiled. “We’ve tried warming up the gel before, but it never works!”

“That’s all right,” Kathryn kept her attention fixed on the black and white monitor, fascinated by a piece of technology that she’d never been privy to.

Grace fiddled with the probe, keeping it low on her abdomen while she kept her attention trained on the monitor in front of them. With the turn on her wrist the screen came alive. “Okay so,” Grace pointed. “Wow, well you’re a little farther along than I thought.”

Chakotay stood mesmerised. _“Is that-?_ ” He pointed at the small hazy figure on the monitor.

“There’s the baby,” Grace nodded as she moved the monitor towards them. “So it turns out that you’re about twelve weeks, Kathryn.”

“Oh, _Kathryn_ ,” His voice broke as he squeezed her hand. But to her nothing, not even his cracked baritone registered in that moment.  The image was crude, nothing more than hazy black and white blotches on a small screen. But to Kathryn, that hazy, tiny effigy made this real.  

She looked away, up to Chakotay whose cheeks were covered in tears, and smiled before turning back to the monitor. “Can you tell the gender?”

“Technically…” Grace moved the probe again, losing the image temporarily. “Sorry.  I’m just taking a few images for the chart. I’ll get back to the little one in a minute. "The short answer to that is no, not yet.  As a general rule, I don’t like telling the gender before the eighteenth week just because it’s not always accurate, and it’s easy to confuse the cord with a penis, but.... _Here’s_ the cord,” She pointed to a small line coming out of the umbilicus. “And, there’s the foot.”

“Is that the hand?” Chakotay was hypnotised as he looked raptly at the monitor.

“Yep,” she nodded. “And you can see it’s moving.”

 _“It’s moving!”_  He beamed, eyeing his wife as they shared in the excitement of seeing their child for the first time.

“Is that the heart beat?” Kathryn pointed to the waveform at the bottom on the screen.

“Uh hunh,” Grace nodded while turning up the volume until the room was filled with the sound of a quick, harsh beat.

At this stage, Chakotay looked like he was going to fall over.“Is it supposed to be that fast?” 

“Yep," She gave a nod. "That’s a normal one sixty beats per minute for a foetus of this size!”

She let image on the screen linger as the parents watched enraptured. “Kathryn, look,” he pointed giddily. “The feet are moving!”

“I know,” she nodded, a bright smile lighting her features. “And so are the arms!”

“They do tend to move around a bit at this stage,” Grace laughed. “Just wait until you hit the third trimester. From what I hear, they don’t stop. I’m going to turn the monitor off now. Would you like a print out of the baby to take with you?”

“Yes,” Chakotay breathed.  "Thank you.”

“Kathryn,” Grace wiped the gel from her abdomen. “We’re going to draw some blood today and set you up for another appointment in four weeks. Is that all right?”

“That’s fine,” Kathryn nodded as she pulled her shirt down over the small bump.

Chakotay looked up while Kathryn attended to the fastener on her jeans. “Is there anything we should be doing in the meantime, Doctor?”

“Nope,” she smiled. “Just plenty of rest, a good diet, and a multivitamin. Stay away from most medications.  Tylenol is OK. But keep clear of alcohol and _too much_ caffeine.”

Kathryn caught his eye again, sharing a private joke. “Did I say something funny?” Grace smiled.

“No,” Chakotay shook his head as he helped Kathryn down from the unwieldy high table. “Kathryn used to be famous for her coffee addiction.”

“Oh?” Grace laughed. “And let me guess, since you got pregnant even a whiff of the stuff makes you want to gag?”

“Yes!” Kathryn smirked. “How did you know?”

“It’s common enough from what I hear. Now, I’m just going to have you pop down the corridor to the last door on your left. Amy’s going to draw some labs and I’ll leave the sonogram photo and a date for your next appointment with Sherry at the front desk. All right?”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Chakotay gratefully extended his hand.

“It’s no problem. I’ll see you back in a month, Kathryn."  


	96. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, I can't thank you guys enough for all the kindness you're showing me with this story. Thank you :)

_"Jenny!”_ Chakotay cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting down the field amid the hullabaloo.

The young girl looked up, startled, to see coach’s hands wildly motioning her down field. There was a gleam in his eye, not exactly angry, but exasperated.  Huntston _was_ killing them. So far they’d only made two goals, which gave Huntston the lead by six and they were only half an hour into the game.  If she had a watch, she’d have counted the minutes until this torture was over. They were tanking, and she just wanted _out._ Then, like the Lord had heard her petty whispered prayers for deliverance, the referee blew his loud whistle and the players bounded off the field to their respective designations.

 _“Coach,”_ Jess huffed, sweat dripping down her temples, as the team huddled up. “They’re massacring us!”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, similarly winded. “We look like idiots!”

“Well _no thanks_ to you, lanky,” Chris sneered. “You can’t block their goals!”

 _“Hey!_ I’m trying! And it's not like you're-“

 _“Okay,_ that’s enough!” Fitting the moment and overall demeanour or not, he amusedly scanned the sullenly peeved faces of the twenty young people in front of him and had to smile. “I know you think that Huntston is _'murdering you'_. But, you have to remember this is your first game! We’ve only been at this for a few weeks and already you’re playing against a varsity team!  I never expected you to win this match, only to get experience in playing other teams. That being said, we still have another forty five minutes in this game and I think we can still give Huntston a run for their money.”

“Oh really?” Jen sneered flippantly with a droll roll of her eyes. “How do you expect us to do that?”

“Curb the attitude, Jenny,” Chakotay clipped. “Right now we have Huntston right where we want them.  They underestimate you.”

“For good reason,” Connor mumbled halfheartedly.

“Hey, Con” Rachel shot back with a hand on his arm. “Listen to what Coach has to say.”

“Huntston thinks they’re going to win this match,” Chakotay explained.

“They’d be right on that one,” Liz chuckled, wiping the sweat beading down her forehead.

Chakotay leered slyly, resuming his diatribe. “I’ve seen you play better than this in practice. Right now you’re playing Huntston’s game.  What you need to do is make them play yours.”

Rachel looked sideways. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean-“ 

“Remember last week, Rach,” Brian interrupted. “When you blocked Ted coming down the field and stole the ball?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how I did it. I just did…”

“You intercepted me just as I was about to make the goal,” Ted recalled.

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t remember _how,"_  Rachel asserted.

“See that’s what I’m saying!” Chakotay interjected. “You’re all better than you think. You’re just intimidated by the thought that you’re playing against Huntston. You’ve been outstanding in practice, but out here you’re acting like timid mice!”

They laughed at that, all of them somehow finding a semblance of humour amid the humiliation and coach's misplaced faith in them.

“I’m going to sub in some new players. Rachel, Brian, Liz, Ted, and Alex," He listed. "I’m going to keep you in for another few minutes. And Tamara, Rishon, Sarah, Max, and John Junior you’re going in.”

A few groans sounded. “Same positions as in practice?” John asked, pulling up his socks.

“Uh," Chakotay scanned the clip board. "Rachel and Rishon, you both play centre midfield field in practice, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Rishon shrugged, his foot drawing invisible patterns in the grass. “But I’m much happier playing defender.”

“Great, uh” Chakotay glanced down field at the Huntston team, whose coach was gleaming a little too smugly at him.

“Hey coach,” Brian grinned, nodding towards the opposite end of the field. “Isn’t that your wife?”

Chakotay’s eyes shot along Brian’s line of sight to the woman walking towards them. “Yes,” He smiled and waved, grateful she made it.  

“So are you gonna introduce us,” Liz laughed. “Or… are you just gonna stare?”

“...What?” He looked back to the gaggle of grinning, giggling teens. “Oh…” Losing his train of thought, he laughed at himself as he heard her footsteps approach. “Everyone, this is my wife, Kathryn.”

“Hello,” she beamed. “I think I’ve met…” She scanned the group to easily find the tall lanky teen she had met previously. “Alex, isn’t it?”

“Yes ma’am,” He blushed.

“It’s nice to finally meet all of you. How’s the game?”

“Abysmal,” Megan rolled her eyes. “Huntston is _reaming_ us.”

Kathryn’s eyes shot to the digitised scoreboard, “Six to two, huh?”

“Yup,” Brian nodded. "Pretty bad." 

“Well now,” Kathryn scanned the group before turning back to her husband. “I seem to remember a few similar incidences of our own.”

“Oh?” he glinted. “Care to elaborate?”

The group looked at the pair, puzzled but enthralled. “Well," Kathryn began. "It has always been _my_ experience that times like these: when the other…” She hesitated. _“Team_ , thinks they’ve got you beat...”  Her eyes followed the pattern of movement on the opposite end of the field. She read the disposition of the Huntston players: the movements they made, the way they laughed when they looked towards her end, slapped each other on the back, tossed their water bottles and lazily passed the soccer balls in halfhearted warm up drills. “They’re comfortable.”

 Liz laughed, “With good reason!”

“Yes,” Kathryn gave a wily smile and pointed purposefully. “But that works to your advantage.”

“But,” Rachel told her. “Even at their laziest, they’re still better than us!”

“Who says?” Kathryn shot back. “Just because you’re new doesn’t make you any less of a team.”

The whistle went off at that very moment, and with a half hearted shrug, the players ran back onto the field.  

 _“Brian,_ ” Liz caught up with her brother, taking his arm and pulling him down to her level before they reached centre field. “When you get the ball, pass to Rishon.”

 _“What?”_ Brian balked. “Are you _kidding_? Rishon’s one of our weakest players?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He’s not. I’ve seen him after practice doing drills with Anneliese.”

“Okay,” He shrugged. “You’re team captain….”

“Promise me,” She urged, pulling his arm tighter like she did at home when she wanted something.

 _“Ouch!_ Okay, Liz!” He nodded to the disgruntled older gentleman in front of them. “The ref is glaring at us.”

Releasing him, the two ran to take their place up at the front as the whistle blew and the game began.

“Thanks for coming,” Chakotay grabbed her around the waist and laid a kiss on the top of her head.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” She smiled watching the commotion as the ball hit the playing field. “So… these are your kids?”

“They are,” He nodded, staying a satisfied smile while he watched the rag tag group battle the game.

Never having participated in a sport as a spectator, Kathryn found the experience decidedly exciting. She remembered scoffing at Debra, her second year roommate at the Academy who was a consummate attendee of parisees squares tournaments. Debra had always invited Kathryn, but her response was predictably, “ _I’d rather play than watch.”_ Which more or less translated into _“I’d rather study.”_

Debra, though, was dogged in her attendance of those games. She knew all the players, their stats, their strengths and their weaknesses. She seemed to have an overly emotional investment in the game itself. When her team won, she’d be elated; when they lost, she was sullen and bitter.  One night Kathryn had asked her about it; why she was so passionate about a sport she couldn’t play. Debra's answer was simple: _“it’s about the emotion,”_  She sighed, happily ogling the team poster over her bed. _“It gives me something to be excited about."_

And now, for once, Kathryn was beginning to understand Debra’s fanaticism. As she watched the teens battled for that ball, that sense of excitement caught her. Fists clenched in anticipation, she was anxious when one of their players got the ball and kept it precariously away from the other team; her elation plummeted as she watched Huntston capture the ball; she felt giddy as the ball approached her team's goal, and completely crestfallen as it found its way into the net, evading the gallant efforts of their goalie.

“Who’s that girl, with the braid right there?” Kathryn asked the girl standing next to her.

“That’s Rachel,” Megan replied, her feet itching to get back into the game. “She’s the best on the team.”

“And the tall boy?” Kathryn pointed to the lanky teen currently in possession of the ball.

 _“BRIAN!”_ Liz shouted from up field. _“PASS!”_

“Now, what’s going on?” Caught up, she asked the other young woman on her right.

“Dunno,” Leah shrugged as she moved her torso trying in vain to see more clearly behind the mass of players huddled around Huntston’s goal net.

 _“BRIAN!_ ” Chakotay yelled, running down the perimeter of the field near where the commotion was. His voice was louder than Huntston’s coach who was cursing wildly at the busy mass. The tension built to a staggering crescendo only cut with the goalie's whistle. _“Foul!”_  

 _“Are you kidding me?”_ Chakotay reared back at the man.

“Your player was out of bounds, Coach!"

 _“What!?!”_ Chakotay looked like he was going to shred the gentleman in two. “He did _nothing_ wrong!”

“I’m still calling a foul!” He argued. “Your ball, Huntston!”

“Wait,” Kathryn looked down at Megan. “What’s going on? What’s a foul?”

“They’re calling a penalty on our team and giving Huntston the ball,” Leah rolled her eyes. “My brother plays for Huntston; that ref’s at every game they play and he always favours them with penalties, fouls, and time outs.”

“Well,” Kathryn’s shoulders straightened as she walked the few steps to where the ref and two coaches were battling it out.

Though they couldn’t exactly hear what was being said, they, and the players on the field, looked on in something akin to fear at her raised timbre. Wildly gesticulating, she backed both the ref and Huntston’s coach into the proverbial corner.  Highland's team collectively smiled at Chakotay’s satisfied smirk as his wife skillfully made the two older gentlemen look like frightened children waiting to enter the principal’s office.  He let her carry on for a few more moments, enjoying the reemergence of this side of her after its long hibernation. _“Kathryn,”_  He put his hand on her arm as soon as he saw the red flush rising on her cheeks.

_“Well?”_

Blanched, the older man glanced apologetically at the other coach as his shoulders dropped in defeat. _“Fine,”_ He nodded towards the players on the field, whose faces were a mix of shock and awe, and not a little smug pride coming from the Highland Prep team.

* * *

“So coach,” Brian laughed as they gathered up the soccer balls into the mesh bag as they watched the Huntston team bustle back into their vans.

“Mmm?” Chakotay smiled, still looking proudly at the scoreboard. They hadn’t won, but they’d given Huntston a good game. Ten to twelve, he decided, wasn’t a bad score for their first try. 

Ted looked back to the commotion behind them where Kathryn was busily chatting with the girls. “I think your wife should come to every game!”

Alex agreed, “That was _insane_! I don’t think I’ve ever seen two big old men so scared in my life!”

“Did you see how pale the ref was?” Rishon laughed.  

 _“The ref?”_ Leah howled, face reddening in delight. “Did you see _Huntston’s coach?”_

Chakotay shook his head knowingly as he laughed along with the group. “I’ve seen her do worse.”

Jenny brought up the rear, having collected all the water bottles. “Coach? I was wrong about today. Sorry,” She told him.  

Chakotay stopped and smiled at her. “Don’t mention it, Jenny.  Good game.”

He heard Kathryn’s laughter next to him, amused at something the girls had said.  He caught her eye and grinned, letting the moment pass between them as the group headed off the field.

“You were quite a hit today,” He said as they pulled down the long driveway. “I don’t think the kids could have been more impressed!”

Kathryn smiled, putting her hand on his thigh as the car came to a halt in front of their little home. “They’re a great group of kids.” She sobered before the next words escaped her tongue, “Shannon called today after I dropped you off. She says she wants to meet.”

“Oh?” He unbuckled the belt and turned in his seat. “Why don’t you sound happy?”

She shrugged, “Let’s talk inside.”


	97. Chapter 97

He’d been waiting for her to elaborate since they got in. So far all she had done was sit, stand, sit again, and then pace their tiny living area in gallant attempt to wear a hole in the flimsy area rug. “We,” She stopped her movement abruptly as she spewed the modification out of her mouth. “I… _I_ made a mistake.”

Puzzled, he set the water-filled pot down on the stove’s licking blue flames. “A mistake?”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was one thing to meet them, to have dinner with them. That can be forgotten.  _We_ can be forgotten!” 

He walked over and gently caught her mid-stride to stay the harried dynamic with firm hands on her shoulders. _“Kathryn?”_  

She avoided his eyes, looking down at the floor to hide the cringe of consternation that had been brewing since the morning when she had received the phone call. “I was _so_ excited, Chakotay,” She bled. “To actually _meet_ Shannon O’Donnell was a dream come true ever since I was a little girl.”  He waited, rubbing small circles on tense, knotted shoulders while she organised herself. “This whole situation is laughable. You, me, stuck out of time, meeting my ancestors, living in Indiana running a camp...!  I let my juvenile enthusiasm get in the way of what I should have done, which was nothing. Instead, like always, I barged head first into it and I’ve made a mess.”

One hand left her shoulder as it came up to tilt her chin, _"Talk to me."_

Wetness coated her bright eyes as she tried to suppress the shudder that coursed through her. “We’re not supposed to be here, Chakotay,” She whispered. “We’re not supposed to interfere with this timeline. We’re supposed to live and die with as little interference as possible.  We’re _Starfleet_ _officers._  We know the risks of meddling with the Prime Directive.  The _Temporal Prime Directive!_  ” She ripped herself away from him and sequestered herself near the windows, looking out at the familiarly comforting sight. “What have I _done?”_

He sighed, letting his shoulders fall as her words sank in. In the back of his mind he knew that what they’d done was wrong, but he had let it slide. “I don't know." 

They stayed like that for some time until he heard the sizzle of the water boiling over the side of the pot to noisily hit the fanning flames underneath. The sudden intrusion into his sullen consciousness spurred a paradigm shift, causing him to laugh as he shut off the stove.

“You’re _laughing_?” Kathryn was incredulous as she turned to him. 

What had started as a mild chuckle had erupted into a full bore guffaw. He tried to contain it, but it kept on as he walked over and gently shoved her against the low-lying windowsill.

 _“What the hel-_ “ Before she could register the movement, however, she felt his lip on hers.  Anger and disbelief abrogated for the moment, her hands worked on autopilot to find purchase on his back.  “What the hell?” She asked again when he pulled away.  

“You’re _infuriating_ , Kathryn."  

“What?” She looked from side to side, still confused.  

"I’ve heard this same dilemma every damn day for the past six years. You keep begging the _same_ question, bringing up the _same_ issue!” It was his turn to be frustrated. “The moment we entered the Delta Quadrant the Prime Directive became obsolete. You _know_ it, and I know it. Name one time we’ve actually paid attention to it!”

“I-“ She stopped and considered his words. “Well we…”  But he was right. In all of Kathryn’s lofty words and heiphelutant dignities over the past six years, and for all of her patronizing _‘keeping in line with the mission that Starfleet had laid out’_ , she had, almost _every_ time, blatantly disregarded almost all of the institution’s precepts.  Its core one in particular.

It started with the Caretaker and the Ocampa. That and a myriad of other violations had made it simpler for her to give the Hirogen the holodeck technology, which made it that much easier to give the Silver Blood on the Demon Class planet copies of her and her crew’s DNA. She didn’t even have to think about it and she could name a dozen other examples of times where they shouldn’t have interfered, but they did - or of instances where, for better or worse, Voyager and her crew had made a lasting imprint on the evolution of planets and societies where they shouldn’t have. _“Damn.”_

“For better or for worse, we made an impact _everywhere_ we went, Kathryn.” His kind features softened as he persisted. “Every society we met, we touched and were touched. So for all of our lip service to it, Starfleet’s doctrine is moot.”

“But that doesn’t justify what _I did,_ or what _we’re doing!_ ” 

He shrugged, turning back to the kitchen to finish preparing their dinner. “Hey!" She followed on his heels, "We're not finished here, Chakotay!” 

“It doesn’t matter what we do, Kathryn. We’re going to make a mark here whether we mean to or not."  She was silent, allowing her thoughts to settle before she answered. But the words were slow to amalgamate on her tongue, so he kept on. “Even if we were to live in isolation out in a cabin in the woods as we desperately searched day and night to find a way to get a signal back to Voyager, we would still be making a difference.  _Damnit Kathryn_ , Voyager isn’t going to find us! You and I have been watching the news, keeping a pulse on current events!  _We know_ what's going to happen!  What difference does anything we do make?" 

She nodded and those saline tears now escaped their shallow, watery confine. "I know," Kathryn whispered.  "I know."  

The tightness in his shoulders let up as he looked down at her, the one person that meant everything to him. “I’m _sorry_ ,” He gathered her against him.  "I shouldn't have yelled.  I'm sorry."  

Kathryn's hands clutched in the warmth of his T-shirt as she breathed him in. _“What_ should I _do_?”

“I don’t know,” She felt him shrug as tender lips kissed her hair in resignation. “Do what you want.”


	98. Chapter 98

For the ride down, neither of them had spoken, preferring to let the radio hum between them as the dulcetly soothing voice of the newsman narrated events of a future that was previously written.  

“What did she say on the phone?” He asked, cutting through the tense silence.

“She said she’ll meet us in half an hour in the main lobby in front of the fountains.”

Chakotay nodded as they followed their previous route along the signs leading them to the parking lot. “It’s busy,” He mused, back hunched as he scanned the scene in front of them for a spot.

Lamely, she shrugged and looked down at her hands,“That it is.”

“Well,” He sighed, keeping his eyes peeled for a parking spot while trying, for the moment, to ignore her grim complacency. “ _Oh!_ I think I see one!”

* * *

Her hand slipped into his as they exited the revolving glass door.  “Over there,” She pointed to the same basin littered with fountains that had captured her fancy the first time she had been here. 

The loud sounds of children’s laughter mingled with a few disparate squalls of displeasure filled the air around them and bounced off the mile high walls and ceilings.  Distracted, Kathryn’s gaze followed the tumult around them.  

 _“Kathryn?”_  

“Shannon!” Kathryn grinned automatically as she turned to the older woman, "Hello!" 

“Well hello to you two, too,” She beamed, regarding the pair of them. 

Chakotay extended his hand in greeting, “It’s good to see you again, Shannon.”  

"I hope the drive down from Arcadia was all right!" She gestured them forward towards the lifts. “And I’m _so grateful_  you two could make it.”

Their last meeting and most recent phone conversation had played on continuous repeat over the last twenty-four hours in the build up to their drive here. She had rehearsed variation after variation of what she would say, how she would extricate herself. But in all of that, she had _completely forgotten_ about the wonder she had felt in meeting this woman.  And not for the first time, Kathryn was awestruck. “Not a problem,” Was all that came through her lips.  

“I know it’s a _bit_ of a drive from Arcadia down to Portage Creek, but Jerry has been _absolutely vying_ to meet you!”

“Jerry?” Kathryn was unfamiliar with the name.   

“Jerry's the head engineer on the project. My boss for nearly _fourteen and a half_ years now! _Goodness,_ ” Shannon mumbled. “ _That_ dates me. Kathryn," The older woman turned to her in the empty lift, laughing as she spoke.  "You’re practically a _celebrity_ in our office so don’t be put off if Ted asks for your autograph. He hasn’t stopped looking at your work since Jerry distributed it last week at the _Idea Meeting_. You know, I actually don’t think he’s _slept_ since.”

“Ted?” 

Shannon cracked a familiar half smile. “I’m not going to say _any more_ or I’ll ruin the fun!”

From this floor, they took a different set of elevators that brought them beyond the shopping mall section of the building and into the office space.  Unlike the mall, this sector of the building was completely covered in windows giving a three hundred and sixty degree view of the Indiana skyline.  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Shannon gushed as she ushered them along the long hallway.

Kathryn nodded as she admired mile upon endlessly green mile of Indiana soil. "That it is."  

“You know, after seeing this view of Indiana’s seasons change for the past fifteen years, I’ve decided that Spring is indeed my favourite. Indiana is never _so green!_ ” She beamed approaching a set of heavy glass doors as she entered a pin code into the console just off to the side. “Well, here we are!”

Glass doors opened into a bustle of activity. Sounds of ringing phones mingled with the din of people chatting and yelling across the room. Whiteboards absolutely _covered_ in varying smudges of fading and fresh marker stood at different angles where people both young and old hunched, arguing in the pursuit of finding the perfect algorithm.  Out of the maelstrom, a gangly young man who couldn’t have been more than twenty came bounding towards the trio. _"Shannon!"_

“Ted!” Shannon leered as a wickedly sly smirk slid over her features _. “This_ is Kathryn Janeway.”

The young man’s gaze widened at the sight of the pair as his eyes darted back and forth between them. _“You’re_ Kathryn Janeway? O-oh my,” He stuttered. “It’s _so_ good to meet you. Wow. I just –I just have to ask-“

 _“Ted!”_  

Seemingly, Ted was caught up in some variant awe-induced vortex. “I was just wondering, _how_ did you come-“

 _“Ted!”_ Shannon caught his attention.

“What?” 

“Jerry wants to meet everyone in the conference room in twenty minutes, you’ll get your chance to ask questions then.”

He nodded only to be distracted a moment later when he heard his name called from across the large room. _“Twenty,”_ he snapped his fingers “Kathryn Janeway, _Sir._ A _pleasure.”_

“I told you,” Shannon laughed, taking Kathryn's arm. “And there’s _more_ where that came from.  And that’s Jerry’s office,” She pointed. “ _And_ it looks like he’s _waiting_ for us!”


	99. Chapter 99

_“Kath-ryn Jane-way!”_ Jerry enunciated her name, letting his gregarity seep through every consonant and syllable as he came round the desk to meet her.  He shook her hand with enough force to rip her arm off as he gave Chakotay a toothy grin. “And who is this?”

“Chakotay,” Kathryn’s hand settled over his back. “My husband.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sir. Welcome. Are you a fellow Engineer?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Kathryn said. 

“Uh,” He looked down at her, smiling his disagreement. “No, I’m not really.”

“Half of what I gave Shannon was Chakotay work,” Kathryn’s hands tightened almost painfully over the skin of his back, making him want to yelp his discomfort.

“Well, you two are the _dream team_ then.  To this office anyway," He chuckled.  "Now, if you two don’t mind I’ve set up a small meeting with our main staff. We all wanted to pick your brain, you see,” He gestured for Kathryn and Chakotay to take a seat in front of his desk before a loud clang sounded on his door.

Chakotay turned his head to the location of the commotion to find Ted and a few other people crowded outside. Eyes wide with zeal, Ted looked like he was going to expire as he vyingly eyed Kathryn while gesturing to his wristwatch.

“I don’t mean to _throw_ you into the _wolves,_ so to speak, but with the material you’ve sent us… well this office has been working on overdrive trying to put forth the modifications! The algorithm you used was absolutely genius and the team here are... well we're _very_ excited."

 _“Oh?”_ Kathryn squirmed in her seat, catching Shannon’s amusedly apologetic eye before she looked back to catch the enthusiastic gaggle of engineers outside the large glass wall. “Well, uh, sure…” 

“Great,” Jerry clapped his hands as he bounded forward to the glass doors. “ _All right you lot, conference room!”_

Shannon laughed as her hand settled on Kathryn’s back. “I’m sorry about all of this, but we’ve been at a standstill for so long. Most of what we’ve been doing for the last few years has been damage control. Everyone’s just a little excited with the prospect of moving forward!”

Kathryn cleared her throat, looking around a little uncertainly and wondering not for the first time _what the hell_ she had gotten herself into. “Fine. I can understand that.”

“We won’t keep you here all day,” Shannon reassured. “But I’m sure the team will keep you well occupied! Oh, and will you join Henry and I for lunch after this? Our treat!”

“Oh, Shannon, I’d, we’d-“

 _“Excellent,”_ Shannon beamed.“I’ll tell Henry!”

 _“Kathryn! Chakotay!”_ Jerry called, waving them in.  “Everyone... Here are our saviors, Kathryn and Chakotay. Now, kids, _behave._ And you two,” He turned to the couple, motioning them forward again. “Have a seat! Don’t be shy, we don’t bite.  Except Martin over there,” He winked.

“I resent that, Jerry,” Martin scowled jestingly as the crowd of twenty or so rumbled with laughter.

“Um,” A young woman, perhaps no more than twenty five sat forward in her chair as Kathryn and Chakotay took their seat. “Kathryn?”

“Yes?” She nodded.   

“Uh,” The girl smiled before looking back down at the rumpled pile of papers in front of her. “I was just wondering, how did you know to apply the _Schletz_ algorithm to _Botzman?”_

 

“Yeah,” Ted looked up, chiming in as his leg bounced up and down in a jumpy thrill. “I was wondering the same thing.  They're both so-"

“Well-“ Kathryn began before another voice cut in.

“I mean,” Martin huffed, excitement bubbling from his pores. “It’s as if you took oil and water, mixed them, and ended up with an _actual solution!”_

“Well I-“

“I know, Marty,” The woman sitting next to him gushed as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, while keeping her gaze fervently on her own pile of lovingly frayed pages. “That’s exactly it! If _this_ works,” She looked up at Kathryn. “If this works, this changes _everything_. _So_ , Kathryn Janeway, how did you do it?”

A chorus of exuberant _“yeahs”_ sounded around the room as Jerry half stood and raised his arms. _“Children, children_! Would you give our guest a chance to get a word in edgewise?”

Kathryn couldn’t help but smile as their enthusiasm was contagious. She took a quick moment to scan the large table dotted with impatient faces, all singularly focused on a common goal: this project. And just for the moment, she couldn’t help but be swept in that familiar emotion; the one that accompanied the gratifying exertion of effort towards the unraveling of a commonly inscrutable riddle.

She glanced to her left where Chakotay sat to see his eyes lit with that familiar shimmer as he gave her an accustomed nod.  Kathryn’s lips twisted into a recognisable half smile as her eyes settled on the blackboard off to the side. _“Well…”_

* * *

 _“Wait,”_ Ginny stood up, hair loose and frizzy after she’d nearly pulled it all out during the four and a half hour meeting. With a new sense of resolve, she let her packet fall loudly down onto the table as she walked purposefully to the board. “If that’s the case, why exclude the second postulate?”

 _“Yes!”_ Chakotay grinned as he pushed his sleeves back up on his arms for what seemed like the fiftieth time. “Exactly. That’s the point: you don’t _need_ to exclude it!”

“Oh my God!” Martin’s palm caught his head. “That’s completely-“

“Genius,” Ted beamed.

“Well,” Shannon sat back in the leatherback chair as she caught Jerry’s eye. “It looks like NASA’s finally going to start taking our calls again.”

 _“NASA?”_ Kathryn stepped forward, her arms leaning against the back of her empty chair.

“Uh hunh,” Jerry cleared his throat, still not able to keep that smile off his face. “When the project first started up, they were interested in collaborating with us. But in the past couple of years, after budget cuts and our own struggles, their attention dwindled.” He looked back over to Shannon. “Just wait until Mike Scortino gets a word of this!”

 _“NASA,”_ Kathryn repeated under her breath. Yes, now she remembered, Shannon O’Donnell and the Mars missions. 

“They’re in the process of preparing for the Mars Missions,” Jacqueline spoke up from the back where she was distractedly still browsing through her large binder and dependably squeezing her constant companion, a small deformable stress ball. “But they’ve been hitting snags,” She looked up. “I’m sure you know about it.”

“Uh,” Kathryn she didn't. “No.”

The young woman glanced at Shannon before looking back. “Ever since two thousand and eleven, when NASA shut down the Space Shuttle Programme, there has been a growing contingent of scientists, astronauts, and engineers who have been very outspoken about its demise. I mean come on, right? It was the end of an era! A few of us here,” She scanned the room. “Myself, Ted, Martin, Lorie, Jerry, and Shannon in particular, have been really vocal about getting the project and up running again.”

The silence stretched as Kathryn mulled over her words, wracking her brain back almost a decade now since she had sat through Instructor Mulligan’s _History of Space Exploration_ course. She remembered reading about the Space Shuttle Programme and its collapse, but never about a proposed or actuated resurgence albeit a few probes sent out around this time. One of those probes would go to Mars to gather information, but the overall outcome of the missions had been failure. The next time another human would fly into space would be Zephram Cochrane’s first experiment with _Warp Drive_ in twenty sixty three...

“Well,” Jerry’s warm timbre settled in the silent room as loud raindrops began to coalesce on the windows. “I think that’s enough for the day. Kathryn and Chakotay, thank you for coming all this way to enlighten us.”

“It was our pleasure.” 

A chorus of _‘thank you's’_ rang out from around the room as the tired engineers tottered out.

““Kathryn and Chakotay, I have to say, that was some of the most innovative work I’ve seen in my whole career. You’re quite an impressive pair, the two of you.”

“Uh,” Chakotay nervously tugged on his earlobe. “Thank you.”

“No, I mean it, we-” A loud ringing abruptly cut into his diatribe. “I’m sorry,” He pulled the phone out of his pocket. “I have to take this. Listen, we’ll talk soon, all right?” He smiled at them before quickly walking back to his office _. “Yeah, hi, Mike. Jerry here…”_

“So you two,” Shannon smiled warmly. “I’m afraid we’ve missed lunch.”

“That’s fine,” Kathryn grinned. “We might as well be heading back home.”

“Oh now, it’s only five! Are you sure you won’t join Henry and I for dinner?”

Kathryn knew that look she was getting.  She had seen her father give it to her hundreds of times: well-honed, sympathetically manipulative supplication. “Well,” Kathryn conceded, only too eager to spend a few more moments with this woman.

“We’d love to,” Chakotay finished. “Thank you, Shannon.”

The older woman beamed. “Great, because Henry is already waiting for us in the lobby. There’s a great seafood restaurant on the second level that we’ve been _dying_ to go back to!”

 


	100. Chapter 100

_“Henry!”_ Shannon called, waving and getting her husband’s attention as the trio approached their table.

The older gentleman looked up from the book he had nestled in front of him. “Well you three,” He took his wife’s hand and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I thought at this rate, Jason and I would be having a solitary meal!”

 _“Sorry,”_ Shannon gave him a familiar lopsided grin. “Is Jason coming?”

He smirked down at her. “I was only kidding, and yes. Chakotay,” He beamed at their two friends. “Kathryn, it’s good to see both of you again. Shannon here hasn’t stopped singing your praises for weeks now!”

Kathryn flushed with embarrassment as she took the older man’s outstretched hand. “Rumours of our greatness have been greatly over exaggerated,” She laughed.

 _“Not_ so,” Shannon rebuffed as she took her seat. “You two have started a revolution, I assure you!”

“A revolution,” Chakotay winced, pulling Kathryn’s chair out for her.

“Mom,” A tall dark-haired man approached the table. “Dad. You must be Kathryn and Chakotay!”

“Yes,” Chakotay began to stand.

“Oh,” Jason put out his hand. “No need to get up. It’s good to meet your, Sir.”

Chakotay smiled at the firm handshake,“You as well!”

“Mom and Dad have regaled me with stories of your greatness,” He smiled. “I’ve been vying to meet you for _weeks!”_

Kathryn smiled at the young man.  The very same boy she had seen in the newspaper clipping a year ago. “The pleasure is ours, Jason.”

“So,” Henry smiled. “Tell me, how was the meeting?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ted started sending fan mail to your home, or Jerry starts calling at two AM to bounce ideas off of you!”

Jason laughed, “I remember _those_ days.”

“Mm,” Shannon nodded as she triumphantly located her glasses. “I think for _once_ we might be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel with regards to this problem we’ve been having for the past _six years!”_

“Wow,” Jason was amused. “You are _indeed_ our saviours! Mom hasn’t been able to get a decent night’s sleep for _years_ with this latest conundrum.”

“You’re telling me,” Henry cachinnated distractedly as his eyes scanned the menu.

“And would you guess, Jason?” Shannon’s hand enthusiastically gripped her son’s arm. “That it was all because of a simple flip of a few equations!”

“So Kathryn, your last name is Janeway? I don’t think we’ve met another Janeway in Indiana, have we dad?”

“No,” Henry looked up. “We’ve been meaning to ask!”

Kathryn hadn’t rehearsed an answer, so she told the truth. “Well, my father was originally from California...”

“That explains it,” Jason winked. “We don’t have that much extended family. Just dad’s sister Marilyn in Eastville.”

“So how did you end up in Indiana?” Henry asked.

“Happenstance really,” Chakotay told him.

_“Good evening, folks…”_

The waitress interrupted the line of questioning, for which Kathryn sent an unaddressed prayer of thanks to whichever deity was listening. All day in the back of her mind, she’d been embroiled with herself in an internal debate. Chakotay had been correct when they'd argued the day before: when in the last six years had she truly paid heed to the _one doctrine_ that she had been pummelled into upholding?

In truth, not a day had gone by where she hadn’t seen or heard the words _Prime Directive._ Admittedly, she herself had thought about it more than her fair share. But in all of her machinations, she hadn’t once fancied herself violating it.

Chakotay's assessment had been correct in that Kathryn Janeway had lived in a self-constructed echo chamber. But he had also been correct in another aspect; their life in the Delta Quadrant hadn’t been privy to that stringent adherence of Federation law. Her mission had been the _survival_  of her crew and getting home, _not_ the delicate luxury of diplomacy. 

And even now, there was no guidebook for their situation.  She and Chakotay were making up their life as they went along. Earlier primitive notions aside, she now rightly realised there was no way of living a completely unaffected life and that in order to _live,_ one had to make an impact, to be _notorious_. 

“And what can I get you?” The young woman’s voice sliced through her musing.

“Pardon?” Kathryn smiled.

“To drink?” She smiled warmly.

“Oh, um, water is fine,” She felt Chakotay’s hand tangle warmly with hers under the table even has she felt his smile on her.

Shannon sat back in her chair, looking at the couple. “There’s something different about you, Kathryn Janeway,” She grinned. "I just can't put my finger on it." 

 _“Oh?”_ Kathryn smirked at the older woman, calling her bluff. “And what would that be?”

 "I’ll figure it out.”

“Is that a challenge?” Kathryn teased.

"I'm always up for one," She glinted.  

“You two are dangerous together!” Henry shook his head as he shared a look with his son.  

Jason smiled back at his father, “Now _where_ have I heard _that_ before?”

“We’ve only been to this restaurant once before,” Shannon glanced to her husband. “A year ago now, is it?”

“I think it was after we got back from Rome.”

Jason sniggered knowingly, earning a look from his parents. “Anything you'd care to share?" His father prodded.  

“I remember a time,” Jason explained to Kathryn. “When dad thought it was a hassle to leave Portage Creek.”

“Oh?” Kathryn asked.  

“Mm,” he nodded. “Driving up to Bloomington may as well have been a ticket to the moon!”

“Well, now,” Henry laughed. "I liked to stay close to home."  

“It’s true,” Shannon nodded. “I never thought we’d make it work. I was so intent on travelling and seeing new places, experiencing new things – _exploring_ ,” she emphasised. “And all Henry wanted to do was stay in Indiana, in his book shoppe!”

“And if you hadn’t come,” He took her hand. “I never would have known what I was missing.”

“For our honeymoon-“

“Which was _five year_ s late,” Jason added.

“We went to Paris.” Shannon told them.  

 _“Paris,”_ Kathryn breathed warmly. “I’ve never been.”

“It was fantastic,” Shannon smiled. “To actually _see_ the _City of Lights_ , sights I’d only seen in photographs, to breathe that air!”

“It made the textual representation of everything that I’d read my whole life real,” Henry grappled, a wistful cadence echoing in his words.

“And after that,” Shannon laughed. “We couldn’t get enough! Every year we make it a point to go somewhere new. Last year was Italy, and this year we’re thinking Thailand.”

“It was a _long_ way for the sheltered owner of a book store,” Henry’s tone was grateful as he admired his wife. “But like Plato’s Theory of the Forms, Shannon brought me kicking and screaming out of the cave and into the light.”

* * *

“So tell me,” Kathryn covered her mouth as she swallowed a bite of her dinner. “How did the Millennium Gate take up with NASA?”

“Well,” Shannon cleared her throat. “We were never involved with NASA, per se. A lot of our team, like Jacqueline mentioned, have our own entanglements with the organization.”

“You trained to be an astronaut, isn’t that right?” Chakotay asked.  

“Mmm,” Shannon nodded. “Indeed I did, but I never finished. Chock it up to complacency. It was _such_ a _strange_ time in my life,” She remembered. “And not long after I left to programme, I came to Portage Creek and got on with my life. _But…”_

“But?” Kathryn goaded.

“But sometimes,” She gave a wistful shrug. “I feel like I let something wonderful slip through my fingers. Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed out being out there in space. I remember seeing the first landing on the moon in nineteen sixty nine and being so enthralled and captivated by Neil’s first steps...”

“Yes,” Kathryn acknowledged. “It was _magnificent.”_

“You sound as though you’ve been there,” Shannon gave her a look.

“What?” Kathryn snapped to, dissolving her regalement into an innocent grin. “No. But I understand.”

The older woman nodded, a twinkle lighting her hazy blue eyes. “Well, anyway over the years, a few on our team have been collaborating with NASA on a few projects. Before the space programme shut down, we were strategizing how to improve life support systems on the Space Station, but,” Her shoulders dropped in forlorn. “It’s a little moot at this stage.  Unless NASA gets more funding, unless they can lobby for enough money to start up the programme again, I don’t think mankind will touch the stars like we used to.”

“More funding?” Kathryn queried.

“The government shut down the project because it was an unnecessary expense,” Shannon’s eyes rolled almost into the back of her head. “Which I can understand. Space exploration does find its way down the totem pole when compared to more temporally pressing needs like the economy and healthcare. But that doesn’t mean an old aerospace engineer can’t be bitter about it!”

* * *

“Well,” Shannon cleared her throat as the group made their way down to the lobby. “Kathryn, _Chakotay_ , I can’t thank you enough for coming here. No doubt this isn’t the last time you’ll be hearing from me so I won’t say goodbye.”

“It was our pleasure, Shannon,” Chakotay smiled. “You’re welcome to Arcadia if you ever get the chance.”

“We might take you up on that,” Henry nodded. “It’ll be our turn to make the three hour journey next time!”

Shannon gathered Kathryn in a friendly embrace, “Thank you again, and you’ll no doubt hear from me in the coming weeks.”

Kathryn’s arms came up around the older woman’s shoulders. She felt _so_ familiar, and for the moment she was struck by the fitting oddness of it all. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Kathryn’s hand found her husband’s as their made their way out of the now deserted lobby. “Oh and Kathryn,” Shannon’s voice made them turn back before they reached the revolving glass doors. “Congratulations.”

 _“Pardon?”_  

“I said congratulations,” She motioned to her stomach as a warm, knowing grin lit her kind face. “I’ll call you in a few weeks!”


	101. Chapter 101

"It hasn't stopped raining for _days_ now..."

Chakotay remembered days like this on Dorvan during the rainy season. As a boy he'd always been exasperated by the monsoon's wet intrusion, but as a man he found these grey, drizzly days something to look forward to. With the sun shut away behind the clouds, it was as if the skies mandated rest.  And it was a rest that, at this stage, he deigned well earned.

Frustrated, Kathryn sighed and squirmed in her chair, feeling a pressure in her lower back as she tried to crack her neck.. Looking around the small room, she reckoned that the size of this cabin was roughly the same as the shelter on New Earth. In her mind's eye she traced her steps through their small home: just two bedrooms, a makeshift bathroom with a toilet and sonic shower, and the main area with a large table and two chairs. They hadn't had anything remotely approaching proper furniture, or the creature comforts of wide, ample chairs and sink-into sofas. 

"What is it, Kathryn?" 

"Nothing," She sulked, fidgeting again before absconding the notion of finding comfort in the meagre cloth chair.

"Now I know there's something," He laughed out right.  "Tell me." 

"These chairs…" She let out a breath, smiling at her own pettiness. "It's just these chairs. I'm so _uncomfortable!"_

He nodded slightly, "I know. We need to find a house, or somewhere to live that isn't in a camp counsellor's cabin."

"I know," She got up and bent backwards, letting off an audible crack. _"Oh._ Especially with the baby.  We'll have to start looking for something close to here, and-"

 _"Cheap,"_ He chuckled, turning to regard her standing aimlessly in front of the open refrigerator door. "I talked to Gregg the other day.  He knows of some places in the next town over that might be in our price range."

"So, we start looking…"

* * *

The rain had softened, leaving the milieu eerily quiet. Not even the birds spoke, as they had gone to sleep lulled by the dependable din of the failing droplets of the late night.

"I love that smell," Kathryn smiled into the darkness and took another breath of the cool night air coming in the open window.

"Mmm," He nodded against her hair. "Me too."

"I missed it all those years we were aboard Voyager," She shivered and he pulled her closer. "The holodeck could never replicate it."

"No. There was always something missing."

"I wonder what they're doing," The thought of Voyager brought to mind all the faces she loved.  "Where they are…"

"If Harry finally got a promotion…" His laughter reverberated against her back.

 _"Poor Harry!,"_ Kathryn chuckled at the memory of the ensign.  "There was _no one_ more deserving of another pip!"  They fell silent for a time, content to revel in their own thoughts. "Do you think," She turned to face him after a time. "That we could have made _it_ work out there?"

"Yes," He breathed. "It wouldn't have been easy, Kathryn. But yes, we could have made it work."

 "What would the crew have thought?"

"I think that _this_ -" He smiled as he ran his index finger along the dainty bridge of her nose before he dipped down into her cupid's bow to trace the fine turn of her mouth. "Is what they wanted for us: to be happy."

"I wasn't happy," She whispered what he already knew.

"I kn-"

"I was happy on New Earth. Not at first-" 

"I recall," He smiled.

"But after that first month.  After I gave up, I started to enjoy a side of life that I never thought I would:  being _domestic_ ," She laughed. "Now there's something I _never_ imagined for myself!"

"We were happy, Kathryn. But I don't think we would have always been."

"No?"

"You need people."

"I had you."

"I wasn't going to be enough. We couldn't have had children."

"I know. It would have been foolish.  I would have come to you.  I was going to come to you. But," Her shoulders mimicked a shrug against the mattress. "You know the end of the story."

"I would have waited." 

"You did wait," She murmured, softly kissing his lips. "And I'm sorry."

"You already said that," He kissed her back.  "And like before, there's nothing to be sorry for.  You did what you thought was best."  

Gratefully, her fingers traced the fine lines of his beloved face.  "You're _too good,_ Chakotay." Arms around his chest, she settled and held him tightly.  "I love you, you know." 

"I know," He kissed burnished hair, inhaling the scent of her.  "I love you too. Everything about you." 

"Everything?" She glanced up at him in the darkness.  

"Yes," His arms held her tighter in assurance. _"Everything."_

"Do you think we'll really find a house we can afford?"  

He shrugged against her, "We'll have to take a loan from the bank, regardless." 

"Loans, debts, mortgages!" Kathryn laughed in exasperation.  "Things I  _never_ thought I would have to worry about!"  

"I know," He shared her wry amusement. "It's still hard to believe."  

"Oh well," Kathryn propped herself on one arm to look at him.  " _This_ is our life." 

"Yes," He nodded, running his fingers through the tips of her hair.  "It is."  

"It's a far way to be from where we were." 

"Yes," Amusement rumbled in his chest. "From the Borg, the Malon, Species Eight Four Seven Two." 

"The Hazari," She added.  "The _Hirogen!"_

"All of it," He let out a long sigh.  "None of it seems real now." 

"No," She shook her head.  "But it  _was_ real." 

"I know.  But now it's something else." 

"Always something else," She fell back against his chest and curled her leg around his.  "What do you think is going to happen, Chakotay?" 

His hands ran in circles along the bony protuberances of her back.  "I don't know, Kathryn.  But I do promise I'll never leave you and I'll protect you and our baby from any harm." 

Her arms tightened around him once more as she leaned up to kiss the soft warmth of his neck, feeling the familiar pulsation under her lips.  "I know you will.  You've always protected me."

"I had to," He smiled.  "You're too damn reckless sometimes."

 _"Hey!"_ She punched his stomach lightly in jest.  "I prefer bold and brave." 

"More like daredevil and heart attack inducing." 

She laughed outright at that.  "Not anymore, though." 

"No," He jousted.  "Married life has softened you." 

Her body shook in amusement.  "You're wicked sometimes, did you know that?"  

"Mmm," With a great smile he turned and rolled her over.  

"Oh," A decidedly bold gleam lit his eye as he leaned down to kiss her.  "You don't know  _how wicked_ I can be." 

"Is that so?" She panted as he pulled away, working on the hem of her night shirt. 

"Mm," Warm breath heated the cooled skin of her torso.  

"Well then," Her breath was shaky as the delicate skin of his lips kissed the soft underside of her breasts. _"Do your worst, Commander."_


	102. Chapter 102

“So,” Gregg crossed his arms over his chest, looking satisfactorily out over the large property. “You two ready for this?”

Kathryn smirked wryly as she kicked the dirt under her feet. “What’s that saying?”

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst?” Chakotay offered.

Gregg huffed at their collective self effacement. Lurking behind grey clouds, he had still held a niggling feeling that somehow these two had managed much more than a camp full of screaming children. “You two’ll be fine! Jan and I won’t be here during the days, _but_  we’ll be here for orientation. The camp counsellors are due to arrive later on this week. May twenty second, isn’t it?”

“Mm,” Kathryn nodded as she shielded her eyes from the oncoming sun. It felt good, _finally_ , to have the warm rays on her skin after days of cooling rain.  

 “You _sure_ you two will be all right?”

“Fine,” She asserted. “Just _fine_ , Gregg. Not to worry.”

“Well tell us if you need anything. Jan and I are taking a trip out to California the week of the opening for a medical conference. Not the best timing, I know. But we know you’ll manage.”

Chakotay nodded as he heard the horn from Jan’s truck. “We’ll be fine, Gregg.”

* * *

“So,” He turned to her. “Where are we going?”

She kept her eyes on the road, suppressing a grin. “If I _told_ you, it wouldn’t be a _surprise._ ”

“Isn’t that usually my line?”

“What is it they say again?” She mused facetiously. “ _Turnabout’s fair play?”_

“Oh so that’s what this is?” He laughed.

Kathryn feigned ambivalence. “What was that?" 

“Payback?”

“For?”

“Portage Creek.”

“No, Chakotay,” A deliciously plotting glint lit her eyes. “ _This_ is my birthday present.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be getting you that?”

“You are,” She told him, craning her neck to see the road sign before she clicked the indicator to get off of the freeway.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Not long,” She lied. “Since we got here… well maybe a little after.”

Chakotay smiled and settled back into the seat, for the moment content to watch the scenery pass. He knew they were going north in the direction of Fort Wayne, but beyond that he couldn’t recognize the route. Kathryn surprised him when what was supposed to be a trip to the grocery store turned into a two hour drive in the wrong direction.

“I remember going this way with my family,” Kathryn said as they turned off the main highway onto a series of smaller back roads. “We would usually pass through Arcadia to visit Aunt Martha.”

“Is it much the same?”

“Arcadia?” She shook her head. “No. It’s much greener.”

“Where did Aunt Martha live?”

“In a small house. She never married. I asked her once why, and do you know what she said?”

“No. What did she say?”

“She said,” Kathryn laughed. “That she was busy that day.”

Chakotay smirked at the story.  “Some people are meant to be alone and their soul is sufficient for one.”

Kathryn stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “And what about your soul, Chakotay?”

“My soul was tied to yours since before the day I emerged _feet first,_ _kicking_ and _screaming,_ from my mother’s womb.”

“Feet first?” She laughed. “You _are_ contrary.”

“So my mother told me.”

“I hope our daughter takes after her father,” She teased. " _Without_ the feet first bit." 

 _“I hope,"_ He corrected. "That she takes after her mother.”

“No,” Kathryn breathed, a sincere adamancy lacing her words. 

 _“Strong, beautiful, independent_ ,” He listed his favourite things about her. “You hope for none of those things?”

She unwittingly blushed at his compliment and felt the small reassuring circles he was drawing on her thigh. “No,” Kathryn shook her head. “I hope she’s not so stubborn that she’s blind and deaf to council. I hope she’s not proud and self satisfied. I hope she’s not...” She stopped. “I hope she’s not like me.”

He reached over the armrest to lay a kiss on her cheek. “I hope she’ll be nothing less than herself, but being our daughter she might have to be reminded from time to time not copy the vices of her parents.”

* * *

Kathryn’s eyes feasted on the marvel that was splayed out in front of them. “So, do you recognise where we are?”

“I should have known.”

She waited before oncoming traffic slowed before turning into the empty gravel parking lot. “So what do you think?”

“I think the holodeck did a good job.” He grinned, looking out over the glinting lake.

“Well, we don’t have a sailboat,” She shrugged as she unfastened her seat belt. “Or that bottle of champagne.”

Chakotay came around to her side of the car and put his arms around her waist as his hands lie gently on her belly. “It doesn’t matter,” He whispered and lay a kiss on her forehead as they looked over the blue-green water. “This is _better.”_


	103. Chapter 103

“This is what I remember,” Kathryn smiled and plopped down on the isolated grassy knoll bathed in sunlight.  They’d left the car in the lot and made their way around on foot.  On the north shore, was a meagre beach populated by a few families with children. But most of the lake was surrounded trees and grass. 

 He took a deep breath, still looking at the sight in front of him before she pulled on his hand and tugged him down to sit.  “Where was your house?”

 Her eyes closed, a smile twisted the corners of her mouth.  “Here.”

 “Here?” He queried, looking around in bafflement. 

“Mmm, hereabouts. I remember looking across and being able to see that island," She pointed.  "Once Phoebe and I tried to swim to it.  We only made it halfway until we heard mom yelling at us, ‘ _Girls!_ ’” laughing, she emulated her mother’s voice. “ _’Don’t you dare.  Get back here right this instant or I’ll tell your father_!’” 

 “Tell your father?” He laughed.

 “I think she thought it was a threat,” Kathryn chuckled.  “The truth was that dad was a complete pushover compared to Gretchen Janeway in a snit!”

The day was quiet and warm. This year, Spring seemed to have impatiently annulled her foray, taking an extended holiday as Summer readily took her stead. Even the insects had awoken early from their cold slumber and the crickets loudly chanted their seasonal ballads, while voracious mosquitos hovered over stagnant waters. 

 “My father was the opposite,” He remembered.  "Even though he was patient and calm, he was... intimidating when he was angry." 

 She leaned back against him to wetly kiss the fine underside of his jaw,  “Like you.” 

 Chakotay caught her lips as she pulled away before he pulled her back down to his chest as his back met the fragrant grass. “I love you.”

 She had always been fascinated by this view of the world.  When she was a girl, she sat outside her home under her tree and watched the skies pass as one gave way to another.  Hardly novel or innovative, she would trace the fluffy shapes, finding animals or cars, once a veritable effigy of Kirk’s Enterprise. 

 “ _Look, Phoebe_ ,” _Kathryn nudged her little sister.  “It’s Fort!” They’d named the dog after the one in Kathryn’s favourite book._

_Phoebe laughed, turning her head as she tried to see the yappy dog in the nebulously formed cloud.  “I don’t see ‘im, Kathryn…”_

_“No look, silly!” She pointed.  “There’s his head, and his tail, and those are his two hindlegs!”_

_Phoebe giggled again as the dog in question bounded loudly towards them. “I still don’t see ’im…”_

She felt his arms tighten around her side.  “Where are you?”

 “I was thinking of my sister. When we were young we used to trace the clouds, find patterns in them. Phoebe was the artistic one, but she _never_ was able to find shapes in the clouds.”

 “I don’t remember much with my sister. I remember running on clay paths, swimming in the creek near our house," He breathed out. "I left home when I was so young, and I never went back.  I wish now that I had taken more time for things, _stayed_ in one place, committed things to memory.  I always felt like I was in a rush to get somewhere, to get away…”

 "And what about now?” She rubbed the itch on the bridge of her nose on his chest, making him laugh at the sensation.

 “Now?”

 “Are you still running, Chakotay?”

 “No,” he breathed, holding her closer as his hand stole its way under her shirt to rest on the firm bump. “I’ve found a place I want to stay.”

 

* * *

Two deep dimples formed as he moved the flowers in the center of the table out of the way, giving her easier access to his meal. “Do you want half?” 

“No,” She blushed, greedily taking a fifth bite.  “Sorry.”

" _No you’re not!_ ” He laughed. “You always did this!”

“Stole food off your plate?”

“We could have been in the mess hall having the same meal and you’d eat more of mine than you would of your own.”

“It made me feel close to you,” She remembered.  “We were sharing something.  It felt intimate even though it wasn’t.  You always said you didn’t mind.”

“I don’t,” he grinned, putting down his fork to catch her eyes.  “I loved when you did it, when you still do it...”

She sighed and smiled, taking another helping of his dinner. “If one thing I don’t miss about the ship, it’s-.”

“Two AM red alerts?” 

“Certainly not!” She shook her head.

“Then perhaps Seven and Icheb’s status reports?”

She rolled her eyes. “Remember the one that took us three hours to get through?” 

“Mmm, you’re sure it’s not replicator rations, or Tom’s terrible jokes during Alpha shift?” 

“No to replicator rations, _yes_ to Tom’s jokes,” She chuckled.  “They _were_ terrible, weren’t they?” 

“The worst,” He laughed. “Now, what do you not miss?”

“Neelix’s cooking.” 

“Oh,” He scrunched his nose. _“Definitely_ not. But that still begs the question, _how_ did we gain _so_ much weight on it?” 

“I don’t know,” She shook her head, laughing as she swallowed another morsel.  “But, we all seemed to.  You, me, Tom, Harry… no one was immune!”

“It was the leola root,” He asserted with cold certainty.   

“That’s the _only_ explanation,” She laughed.  “So.”

“So?”

“You said you had something to talk about with me earlier on before we left this morning.”

 _"Oh,”_  He remembered. “Bill asked me the other day if I wouldn’t mind holding a sports day camp for the kids at the school this summer.”

“ _This_ summer?” She reiterated.

“I know we have the camp, and I’d still be there for half a day-“

_“Chakotay.”_

“What?”

 _“Do it.”_  

“You don’t mind?” 

“No,” She shrugged and refocused on her meal.  “Not really.  I captained a starship with one hundred and fifty crew members through the Delta Quadrant. I can manage a camp of fifty children. And we have help _and_ you’ll only be out for half a day…” 

“You’re sure?” 

 _“Yes,”_ She smiled, laying down her fork.  “You love coaching those kids.” 

“I do,” he beamed with pride. “And I’ll be making a little bit more money that we can put down for the house.” 

“Okay,” She smiled.

“We haven’t really talked about the camp.”

She looked up, "There's nothing really to talk about." 

“No, I just want to know what you’re thinking.” 

She shrugged as his brown eyes bore into her before she relented.  “To be honest, I’m… nervous. I’ve never done this before.  And with kids…" 

“You were fine with Naomi...”

“This is different.”

“I know.  But, we’ll figure it out.”

“Our motto,” She glinted

“I think that’s been our motto for the past six years!”

“Remember the days when ‘all systems functioning’ meant life support was still intact?” 

 “Mm.  So,” He changed the subject. “What _do_ you want for your birthday?”

“This is my birthday,” She smirked. “Well… not all of it.”

He quirked an eyebrow as a wry smile tugged at him.  “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Well you see I’m saving it,” she deferred with a wink, hoping he would take the hint.  “For later...” 


	104. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgot just to thank everyone for being so kind and wonderful and leaving so much amazing feedback. Thank you so much. You're literally the loveliest people I know.

“So?” Jan spurred, giddy but surreptitiously still not looking up from the list she was making. “Are you going to tell me anything?” 

Her coffee cup sat steaming, letting off the familiarly fragrant odour into the air between them. Kathryn could tell by the smell that it was black, absent from the sweet hints of milk and sugar.   _Coffee, black._ The words once rolled off her tongue so easily in hasty demand to the console on the wall of her ready room.  In her mind’s eye, she could still trace the contours of the space in her head; that terrible dulled sea foam green finish, the stiff uncomfortable couches, the small decorations she’d lain in an effort to make it more her own. 

 _‘Ugh’, Kathryn turned her nose in disgust; “This is lukewarm and tastes like it’s been sitting out for days!  Computer,” she exacted, irately tapping her fingers on the belligerent console. “Coffee, Black!"_ _On time and as predicted, the door to her ready room signalled. “Come!” She ground out, sampling the once again tepid cup of coffee._

 _“Status report, Captain,” his voice was dull and tired, like his features. As she turned, he vacuously he met her gaze without really looking at her._

_“Thank you, Commander,” she made a point of emphasizing his title as she irksomely banged the metallic mug back on the console to be recycled. “Is that everything?”_

_He stood at parade rest before her with feet shoulder width apart and hands clasped loosely behind his back.  Chakotay never used to stand like that in front of her, not even in the beginning when they were intentionally trying to maintain a strict veneer of military formality._ _She noticed the small things:_ _the tight set in his jaw, the hold in his broad shoulders, the deep, dark circles under his eyes.  “Yes, Captain,” He shook his head, still looking past rather than at her._

 _“Well then,” S_ _he shrugged, absently looking over the padd he’d deposited on her desk.  “Dismissed, Commander.”_

“Kathryn?”  Jan’s soft smiled voice broke through, bringing her back to the present.  

“Sorry, Jan,” She gave a grin. “I was just thinking.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“No,” Kathryn laughed. The thought of telling Jan exactly what she was remembering gave her a rise. “Nothing important. Now what was it that you were asking me?”   

“I asked how the appointment was with Grace yesterday?” 

“Oh,” Kathryn beamed, her hand travelling down over the ever-prominent bump. “Fine, Jan.  It was just fine.”

 _“Kathryn,”_ Jan slipped her reading glasses off her nose to dangle around her neck, leaving her eyes free to give a glare.  “You’re doing this to torture me, aren’t you?”

“What?” Kathryn laughed. “Jan, no.  Everything went well.  And put that glare away; we didn’t learn the sex of the baby. You know, yours is almost as bad as my mother’s!”

“My glare?” Jan chuckled. “It works wonders on Greggory, and the kiddies when they’re being naughty!  Now why _ever_ not? You two were so excited to know the sex!"

“I don’t know, we just…” Kathryn shrugged. “Decided we wanted to wait.” 

“Well Chakotay is _dead set_ on this little one being a girl.  I think if that baby comes out as being a boy he’s going to pass out!” Jan laughed at the image the scenario brought to her mind. 

“I know,” Kathryn smirked, sharing Jan’s amusement. “So am I.  For almost as long as I’ve known him, I always imagined us having a little girl first, maybe two and _then_ a boy.”

Jan leaned forward, resting her shoulders on the island.  “How long have you known him?”

“Chakotay?” Jan never asked about their past. It was something unspoken between them, and over the months they had come to a gentle equilibrium. Kathryn supposed she should have prepared for this - for the day when the questions would come.  But somehow she had always found convenient ways around it.  “Seven years now, I suppose.” Jan’s silence and quiet mien kept her talking.  “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him, but somehow I did almost from the moment I saw him.”

Jan’s neutral expression metamorphosed into a sly grin. “Who wouldn’t have?”  

“I pushed him away so many times with the things I said to him and all the times I hurt him. I still don't know how he could still love me.”  She had never spoken about this to anyone but Chakotay.  On the ship, she had yearned for someone to tell; for someone to know her secrets, her regrets.  It was enough _now_ to tell him, to have him know.  He was the only one who understood.   But sometimes, in the stygian seclusion of her private quarters, she used to imagine talking with her mother, or with Phoebe.  She used to tell them things about him, about her.  She told them the little stuffs: the small things he did for her, the tiny minutiae that made her life sweeter.  She told them how much she loved him.  She told them all the things she held in her heart: how much she wanted to be with him, start a family, make _something_ \- a life together. Kathryn looked past Jan’s shoulder to the coloured tile over the stove.  “I used to imagine my life with him – a life with children,” She smiled. “Messy laughter.” 

“Gregg said you two are looking for a house.” 

“Mmm,” Kathryn chucked. “I don’t think the baby will fit in the cabin.” 

“Well I don’t doubt it,” Jan smirked. “It’s barely enough for you two!”

 _“Jan,”_ Kathryn’s arm shot out to rest on Jan’s.  “I didn’t mean it like _that._ ”

“Like what?”

“Chakotay and I, we’re so grateful to you and Gregg.  For giving us a place to live, for-“ 

 _“Kathryn,”_ Jan stopped her. “You always say it like what we did was charity, but we’re the ones who should be thanking you. Before you came, Gregg and I were considering closing this camp down.  It’s a lot to coordinate,” A look came to her face, telling Kathryn what she already knew.  “I had been offered a job in California and we were seriously thinking about going. It’s not that we don’t love this camp, but it’s a lot of work for two _old fogies!_  Gregg wanted to stay in Indiana, and frankly so did I.  We had poured our life into this place.  We've made it our home, given up things for it.   _And_ for a while we thought that we’d give it up, but then you two came.  So, Kathryn, for _the last time_ stop thanking us.  Gregg and I know you have a past. We all do. We all having things we want to hide and pray that no one finds.  But _none_ of that _matters_ here, all right?” 

Kathryn nodded and smiled, wiping the tears brought to her eyes by this Jan’s overabounding kindness. “Well then, _speaking_ of camp…”

 

* * *

 

 

 _“Kathryn!”_   She heard the smile in his voice as he bounded up the steps. 

“Hi,” She peeked out from behind the refrigerator door.  

“I see cars. Are all the students here?”

“Most of them. They’re getting settled.”

The sound of high-pitched laughter outside the window drew his attention.  Three girls passed the cabin, one blushingly catching his smile before running back to her friends.  _“Oh boy,”_  He laughed, turning back to his wife. 

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek,  “How was the day?”

“Good,” He sniffed around the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”

“One step down from a replicator,” She held up a small box as a crooked grin quirked her lips as an amused laugh escaped.  “Something called Mac and Cheese.”  

“Oh, that’s _perfect_ , Kathryn. _All_ you have to do is add milk.” 

“I know,” She browsed the instructions.  “I don’t think it’s possible to burn this.”

 _“You’ll find a way_ ,” He teased, peeling the damp T-shirt over his head. 

She threw the dishtowel at him as he bounded out of reach into the bathroom.  _“Oh you!”_  

 _“I just know it,”_ Hilarity and amusement laced his soft timbre as he yelled over the sound of running water.  _“So how are the students?”_

“What?” She craned her neck to hear over the running water.

 _“I said,”_  He raised his voice another decibel. _“How are the students?”_

Wiping her hands on the dishtowel, she sauntered into the bathroom and stopped short as warm, moist air billowed in her hair. "Huh?" 

An ache and rush of wetness settled in her groin as he peeled off the last of his clothing, leaving him naked in front of the hot shower. “See something you like?” 

 _“You_ are trouble,” She pointed, hitting him square in the chest with her finger. 

“Mm,” He pulled her to him and catching her lips easily with his. _“Kathryn?”_   

She was lost against him. _“What?”_

“What’s that smell?” He teased.

 _“Oh!”_ Kathryn pushed, eyes widening as she realised the smell in question was _indeed_ coming from her kitchen. _“Dammit,_ Chakotay!”

He laughed all the way into the shower as the hot water soothed his aching shoulders.  “It’s all right, Kathryn!”  

“Mm,” Not a second later, she reappeared and pulled back the curtain, standing before him as naked as the day she was born. “It seems you’ll just have to starve.”

For a moment he feigned dismay before pulling her under the scalding current, his amusement hardly dampened as he captured her mouth again. “Seems I’ll just have to find _something better…”_


	105. Chapter 105

Sweat rolled down her back in beads, soaking the topmost part of her shorts.  The moisture had been there all day, a constant source of dual aggravation and deliverance in the face of the scorching heat.  Kathryn hadn’t been out in the sun this long since New Earth.  She smiled to herself, remembering how avidly she avoided the outdoors when she was a girl.  Sun shining, beautiful days would be blocked out with the flick of the wrist or the sound of a voice command.  Young Kathryn Janeway wanted nothing to do with the outside world; not if it meant that study could be completed, or a puzzle solved. 

_“Where’s Kathryn?” Gretchen turned to Edward, perplexed.  "I swear I just saw her!”_

_“In her room,” Edward shook his head, smiling at the antics of his young daughter.  “Where else?”_ _His wife frowned, drawing a shrug from him.  “They’ve got exams when she gets back.”_

_“That doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy one night off, so get her down here! It’s a nice day out and she’s missing it!”_

How many of those days had she missed?  Without the constant stresses of life in the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn found herself remembering a life that she’d long put away and relegated to superciliousness.  It wasn’t so much that she had regrets, per se.  Rather, she regarded these memories and recollections as Ebenezers – markers and models of entities she wanted to change. 

_“Hey!”_

Chakotay laughed as a young boy with mischief in his eyes shouted,  _“Tag! You’re it!”,_  and quickly ran back to his friends as the lot of them bounded down the field. 

 _“That’s not fair!”_ Chakotay jogged after them, grinning as he gained on the hyper crew.  _“I had to tie my shoe!”_

Kathryn grinned at the sight of him playing with children.  She thought back on the last seven years, how seldom did she hear him laugh? And not just a huff of amusement, but a _real_ laugh: the kind that starts deep down, at the atomic stuffs of one’s very being.  Chakotay kept parts of himself caged.  He withheld his humour, his joy.  Sometimes she was she was given to wonder how _long_ he’d been forced to shroud himself.  Over the years, she had witnessed abstemiously tiny peeks of his sunny soul, heard too-brief clips of his glee, and seen deep dimples flash and disappear on his cheeks all too quickly in barely shallow delight. 

Despite abounding talent in whatever he chose to put his hand to, Chakotay was never meant to be a Starfleet Tactician, a Maquis Captain, or even a first officer.  On the ship she knew he wasn’t happy.  She’d seen his bitterness, _tasted it_ starting when they’d first met.  Chakotay was bottled lightening.   _That_ Kathryn knew from the first moment she touched him.  She still remembered the feel of him under her hands.  It was silly, romanticised even, to say there was an electric current running through him.  But on that moment seven years ago she could have _sworn_ there was. 

On New Earth, parts of him came out when he was able to divorce himself from the boundaries that confined, enclosed, and narrowed his path.   At first she hadn’t seen it.  For she had been too wrapped up in her own sorrow – missing those _same_ rules and precepts that he was so deliriously happy to be separated from.  And just for those few weeks, she had gotten used to his eyes nearly permanently crinkled in laughter.  Her ears had become habituated to hearing his joy.  And _even she_ had started to smile, to feel that coveted bliss.   But then they were rescued, back on the ship, wearing black and red uniforms that dictated who they had to be, and only then did she start to understand. 

* * *

_“So.”_

“So?” Kathryn habitually goaded.

_“So how is it going?”_

“Just fine, Jan.” Kathryn only half paid attention to the disembodied voice on the other end of the line. 

_“That seems to be your automatic response to me these days.”_

“Well it is fine!”  Kathryn laughed, trying to balance the phone between her ear, chin, and shoulder while making the bed.  

 _“Well all right,”_ Jan’s smile was hardly tapered, despite the feigned aggravation in her voice.  “ _No issues?”_

Kathryn’s bright smile waned upon finding a stray sock under the bed along with a teeming population of dust bunnies. “None.  The students are wonderful, and I  _can’t get over_  these kids! _Oh!”_ She strained to reach the item just out of her grasp.  

 _“What was that?”_ Jan prodded. 

“Nothing, Jan," She held back a sneeze.  "Everything’s going well.”

 _“Did you work out the kitchen situation?”_  

Kathryn chuckled remembering the incident earlier this week; their first crisis.  “The near fire?”

 _“Chakotay told me you were in the kitchen,”_ Jan mock scolded.  _“Kathryn, I thought I made it clear you weren’t allowed in there!”_

“I wasn’t!” She defended, not able to keep the bright smile out of her voice.  “What else did my _wayward husband_ tell you?” 

 _“Nothing,”_ Kathryn could hear Gregg laughing in the background. _“Just that the kids were entertained.  Said you handled the situation very well.”_  

“How’s the conference?”  

 _“Good,”_ Jan sighed.  _“Busy.  Tonight’s my presentation.”_

“Nervous?”  

 _“No,”_ Jan yawned.  _“Not at all.  Gregg and I are going to take a little tour around Soho to find something to eat for breakfast. ”_

“Good, enjoy then.  Well,” Kathryn looked down at the leather wristwatch, a gift from Jan and Gregg on her birthday.  “Chakotay’s gone for the morning at the school.  It’s the first day of soccer camp.” 

 _“I heard all the kids signed up.”_   

“Mmm,” Kathryn smiled.  “He's happy.”  

_“I’ll bet.  Now, are you all set for the morning?”_

“I’m meeting the students in the mess hall in half an hour to go over the day’s activities. And I just checked, Anne and Rachel are already in the kitchen making breakfast.” 

_“Good.  How’s that working out?”_

“Kitchen rotations? Fine.” 

_“There’s your motto again.”_

Kathryn smiled.  “Because it’s true. Now go enjoy your morning.” 

_“Okay.  But Kathryn?“_

“Hmm?”

 _“For the last time,”_ Jan chuckled.  _“Stay out of the kitchen.”_


	106. Chapter 106

“What was that again, Mike?” Jerry tipped his chair back to the bank of precarious, his feet comfortably resting on his desk.

 _“I said,"_ Mike Scortino enunciated his words clearly over the crackly connection. _‘"you heard the news, right?’”_  

“Oh, yeah. It’s about time too, Mike. God, at this rate I thought it would _never_ happen!”

 _“You and me both,”_ Mike huffed, turning round the corner into his office. _“Listen Jerry...”_  He plopped down in his soft leather chair and turned to look out over the complex.

“Is this the part where you finally tell me why the hell you called?”

 _“Uh yeah,”_ Mike nodded, unnecessarily lowering his voice one decibel. _“Listen, I showed your work to the head mucky mucks-“_

“Oh?” Straightening his chair, Jerry put two feet back on the ground. “And?”

_“Jon Boden was impressed.”_

_“Mad Eye Boden?”_ Jerry gawped. “You serious?”

_“Yeah. They all were. But that’s not why I called.”_

“What do you mean?”

_“We want you back. We’re offering full package and benefits as well as a co-chair position on the Mars projects.”_

Jerry fell silent.

_“Are you there?”_

“Uh,” He cleared his throat. For _years_ Jerry Banks had been waiting for this opportunity. He’d always viewed his involvement with the Gate as some sort of interim locus between greatness and greatness. But over the past fifteen years, he’d gotten comfortable here and had come to see the benefit of the work they were doing. “I’m going to have to think about it, Mike, and talk it over with JoAnn.”

 _“This doesn’t just affect you, Jerry,”_ Mike’s voice was sharp. _“For the past five years, you people have been dickin’ around out there in the cornfields of Indiana. I mean you were a joke around here! But dammit, this work is good. Really good…”_

Jerry interrupted the aggravated diatribe. “What do you mean this doesn’t just affect me?”

_“We want the team – you, Ted, Shannon, Jacqui, Martin. But we’re not offering if you don’t come.”_

“We all have lives here, Mike!” Jerry was incredulous.

 _“Jer,”_ Mike laughed. “ _We’re not asking you to come to Washington tomorrow! We just want you to think about it.”_

Jerry shrugged and rubbed tired eyes. “I’ll think about it, talk it over, and get back to you.”

_“Great. That’s all we’re asking."_

* * *

_“Chakotay?”_ Her voice was tired as tingling feet carried her over the threshold into their tiny cabin. “Are you home?”

 _“Hmm,”_  She heard a tired grunt from the bedroom before she saw his figure collapsed sideways across the mattress.

He felt a depression in the space next to him as her arm came like deadweight to wrap around his waist. “I think we made a mistake,” He yawned and muffled his words into the pillow.

“Huh?” Her lids were heavy.

“I said,” He repeated, turning to lay his head on her chest. “I think we made a _mistake.”_

The bedroom was cool now that the sun had gone down. At the beginning of the week, their air conditioner had made an untimely decision to end its own life, and it would be a week until the repairman could come out and fix it. _Apparently,_ the same fate had befallen almost every unit in Arcadia.  So, blankets and sheets kicked off, they slept all but naked. Normally it wouldn’t have been an issue.  Almost since they had begun their relationship, a state of somnolent nudity was their natural humour. However, up until a month ago, that dishabille had _always_ accompanied sex. Now, though, that entity, like the air conditioner, had taken an unfortunate tumble down the cliffs of _extinction._

“What mistake?” 

“We’re not going to survive as parents.”

A laugh erupted from her belly as she confirmed his words. “Yes,” She nodded against his raven hair. “We made a mistake.”

He turned his head against her breast and breathed in her smell. “Don’t do that,” She flicked his temple.

“Why?”

“I stink.”

He repeated his action. “You smell like you.”

“Are you saying I stink _normally_?” Her arm came up to whack his shoulder playfully.

“No,” He tilted his head to kiss her neck. “I love the way you smell.”

“Good thing,” She smirked. “You’re stuck with it.”

“Good,” He yawned. “I ran into Sheila in the mess hall at dinner. She told me what happened.”

Kathryn reached behind her to angle the pillow under her neck. _“Oh?_ I bet you got a kick out of that.”

“I have to admit,” He smiled. “The way she told it, it sounds like you had a good scare!”

“Can you _imagine_?” She rolled her eyes, her voice full of incredulity . “ _Captain Janeway_ taken down by a _garter snake_?”

“I never took you to be squeamish, Kathryn,” He prodded.

“I’m not!” She asserted defiantly. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I’m only kidding,” His lips brushed the space between her breasts. “I _hate_ snakes.”

“I know. Thank goodness Carol doesn't.”

“Was Carol there?”

“Mmm. All the little boys enjoyed it!” She remembered. “You should have seen them, _‘Oh man! That’s so cool!_ ’” She emulated. _“’I wanna hold it!’”_

“No thank you,” He laughed, imagining the boys gathered around.

“How was practice today?” She ran her fingers through soft hair, tickling his scalp and drawing a sigh.

“Fine. We’re going to start on lacrosse soon.”

“Lacrosse?”

“Mmm,” He yawned. “For the Spring.”

“Why lacrosse?”

“There are other teams in the area and the school wants to compete." He asked, his hand coming to settle under her shirt on the warm skin of her belly. “Is she moving yet?”

“Some. Amelia said in a few weeks we'll get more.”

“Amelia?”

 Kathryn nodded against the pillow. “Her father’s a obstetrician.”

“Didn’t she say also that she was going into that?”

 _“Mmm,”_ Kathryn acknowledged. “Chakotay?”

“Hm?” 

“I never thought I would say this,” A half smile twisted her lips. “But running this camp is _more exhausting_ than captaining a ship in the Delta Quadrant.”

“I know,” He yawned for the third time in two minutes. “I didn’t think I’d be this tired.”

“How many more rotations do we have?”

“Four. Our last is the end of August.”

 _“Mm,_ ” She exhaled. “But I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What?” He smiled, tilting up to look at her in the cool light of the evening clouds.

“I love it.”


	107. Chapter 107

“Well now, you three,” Ann looked rather pleased with herself at the spread in front of them. “This has to be the _most perfect_ summer night we’ve had all season!”

And it was. Blessedly the blazing afternoon heat had given way to a tepid, breezy evening. “Indeed,” Kathryn smiled. “This looks _delicious_ , Ann.”

“We thought tonight we’d keep it simple,” Andrew took a sip of beer before tucking into the meal. “On our first date, Ann and I went to this little Lebanese place in lower Manhattan.“

“From looking at it,” Ann added. “You’d have thought this place was a hole in the wall-“

“Like one of those joints the Health Commission shuts down its first week of operation!”

Chakotay grinned as he dipped a piece of pita bread into the hummus, “So how did you end up there?”

“Well,” Andrew capitulated. “Ann’s a sucker for falafel.”

“I am,” She pointed to her plate piled high with the delicacy. “Andrew had this big date planned.”

“I did. I was going to romance you at one of the city’s _most acclaimed_ Italian bistros and _wow_ you with my knowledge of the wine selection.”

“But then,” Ann covered her mouth. “We walked past this little Middle Eastern restaurant and my mind was made up!”

“What about you two?” Andrew asked. “Where was your first date?”

Kathryn almost choked on her lemonade. _“Our_ first date? Well…” She looked over at Chakotay. “Where _was_ our first date?”

“Well,” His voice cracked only slightly. “Kathryn and I never… dated.”

“What?” Ann leaned her elbows on the picnic table, readying herself for a good story.

“No,” Kathryn twisted her mouth into a pout. “But we were friends for a long time. Best friends.”

“Like us,” Andrew grinned.  

 _“But,”_ Ann was intent on hearing the full story now that her interest was irrevocably piqued. “When was it that you realised you were _more_ than friends?”

“Well, uh…” Chakotay waxed, his appetite waning. “Kathryn, _when_ was it we realised we were more than friends.”

Her hand met his under the table.“Nearly the moment we met." 

“I _knew_ it,” Ann sighed, letting out the hold in her petite shoulders. “You two seem like the kind with an _epic_ love story.”

 _“Epic?”_ Kathryn chuckled, once again tucking into the food on her plate. “I don’t know if I’d go that far!”

“I can tell,” Ann reassured. “So how’s everything at the camp going? Are you enjoying it?”

“Mmm,” Kathryn nodded and swallowed, holding out her hand until she could answer. “Very much. But it’s going by so quickly!”

“And you’re happy with what we’ve been doing so far?” Andrew queried.

“Very,” Chakotay said. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank us,” Ann took a drink of her iced tea. “You’re our first big client. Now other organisations in the area have taken note of us.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“How many more rotations do you have left?”

“Three,” Kathryn sighed, laying down her fork and rubbing her eyes. “I hope they’ll be easier than the last one!”

Ann’s voice was soft, “How so?”

“It’s hard to get attached to these kids," Chakotay explained. "To get close to them knowing that we’ll never see them again.”

“You’re giving them a chance to be normal. Maybe for the _first time_ in their lives,” Ann simpered reassuringly. “That counts for something.”

“I know,” Kathryn nodded. “And it’s not that Chakotay and I are strangers to losing people we love, but they’re just children.  Jan and Gregg say it gets more manageable, but I don’t think it gets any easier.”

“I’m sorry,” Ann whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Kathryn smiled brightly. “We’re sorry for being such _dark horses!_ ”

“Gregg told us to keep a look out for a house for you two,” Andrew reached down to the sad-eyed friend at his feet.  

Kathryn chuckled at that.  “Gregg seems to have sentinels at every turn looking for a house for us! Why, do you have one in mind?”

“Mind you,” Chakotay gestured for emphasis. “We need something _cheap.”_

“Well if you want cheap,” Ann asserted; “You’re looking at a dumpy fixer upper. And let me tell you, there are _plenty_ of those around here!”

Chakotay thought on it. “A fixer upper I don’t mind. But we’re going to have to find something soon, _before_ winter.”

“You know, there are a few places not too far from Jan and Gregg’s now that I think about it. But they’re a little…” Ann looked at her husband, her hand turning questionably. “Remote.”

* * *

Kathryn yawned, rubbing her eyes in an effort to stay awake. “Do you think we’ll really find a place to live before winter?”

“We have to.  We can’t have a baby in that cabin.”

“I used to think about us having a house some day.”

“So did I.  I dreamed about one once."  

She turned to him, his words knitting a blanket around her. “And?” 

“And I remember the way the air smelled," He evoked the memory.  "Clean, like honeysuckle - how the camp smells in spring.  Not on Dorvan, Trebus, or even San Francisco had I ever smelled it before. But this past spring, one morning I woke up and went outside and there it was.  A memory from a dream.”

“What else?” She whispered.

He put on his indicator to go left before they turned back onto the camp’s grounds. “Before we came here, I’d never seen houses made only of wood.”

“There were wooden houses in San Francisco,” She reminded him.

“But not like here,” He opened the car door, letting the warm night air rush in.

Kathryn shook her head against the seat as she opened her own door and hopped down onto soft grass. “Take a walk with me?” They sauntered in silence, hands joined between them, before a thought came to her. “Do you miss it?”

“Do I miss what?”

“Your vision quests.”

“Sometimes,” He sighed. “They used to be important to me. They used to keep me balanced.”

“Used to?”

He reneged a centimetre. “Well, you're right.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss them. I used them to clear my mind, to solve problems that I couldn’t when I was awake.”

“Did _I_ –“ She thought for a moment. “You stopped after Chaotic Space. Was it because I forced you?”

His hand tightened around hers. _“No, Kathryn…”_

“I was scared,” She recalled, with startling acuity, the emotion just as palpable now as it was then. “I felt guilty asking you to make that sacrifice. But I didn't know what else to do...”

“You didn’t ask me for anything that I was unwilling to do.”

She looked him straight in the eye. “I used you, Chakotay.”

“I know.”

“And it wasn’t right,” She looked back with regret. "What I did wasn't right." 

“I know,” He let a long breath out as they reached the pebbly shore.  

“I’m _sorry_ ,” She muffled against his T-shirt as he held her. “For so many things.”

“Don’t be," He whispered softly to her.  "I have my own regrets about the things _I_ said, the times _I_ hurt you. But, none of it matters anymore.” 

“It used to matter so much.”

"I know," A smile laced his words as he changed the subject. “We’ll have to go out on one of the canoes sometime. Just the two of us.”

“Oh no,” She laughed, stepping away from him and retaking his hand as they continued on down the shore. “I’m done with boats for the time being!”

He chuckled, looking at the boat rack stacked with kayaks and canoes. “Oh come now, Kathryn, don’t be a sore loser.”

 _“Hey,”_  She punched his arm indignantly. “Our boat sprung a leak!”

“Oh? Is that what happened?”

“Mm,” she yawned. "Almost exactly." 

“Let’s go home,” He pulled her back towards the cabin. “I think it’s past your bed time.”

“You’ll eat your words, Chakotay,” Another yawn followed in sequence as she remembered back not too long ago. 

 “Let’s go to bed. I have to be out early tomorrow morning.”

“Well, I suppose that rules out _other_ activities.”

“Like sex?” 

 _“Shhh!”_ She playfully slapped a hand over his mouth.

His response was to lay a kiss on her palm. “I wonder if we still know how to _do_ it?”

“I've heard it's like riding a bike,” She drowsed as they deposited their shoes on the foyer.

“It’s not _that_ late,” He bargained.

She rubbed tired eyes, stripping down to a shirt and panties before falling into bed. “No. We have to be up in _four_ hours!”

His own lids were  heavy  with the anticipation of sleep as he fell in behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. “It’s too early for this, Kathryn.”

“For what?” 

“Not having sex.”

“One of these days...”A tired smile curved her cheeks.

“Just as long as it’s on the menu.”

“Goodnight, Chakotay.”


	108. Chapter 108

“Well,” Chakotay cleared his throat looking at the scene in front of them. The house was old. Not _just_ slightly antiquated, but bordering on _ancient_. Bigger even than Jan and Gregg’s, the old farmhouse stood alone in a clearing surrounded on both sides by forest. “It’s..." His hand tugged automatically at his earlobe. "What's that word Ann used?”  

 _“Perfect,”_ Kathryn was visibly enamoured as she clambered down from the truck onto the uncut grass.

 _“Perfect?”_ He croaked into the empty car as he watched her saunter through the dry brush. “Kathryn! _Wait!”_

“Hmm?” She kept her eye on the house.  It was beautiful, she thought.  Of course, the paint was peeling and there were a few _bald spots._ The grass was overgrown and vines grew up the side.  And, yes the windows were muddied and a few at the top were cracked. But, as silly as it sounded, she couldn't help feeling a kinship with her.  

Over the course of the last few weeks, she and Chakotay had been what Jan and Gregg called  _house hunting._ Scouring listings in the local newspaper, they had visited homes in their price range that were close to the camp and school.  To say that the process had been disheartening would have been and understatement.  Most of the listings were small, hidden in dilapidated neighbourhoods.  Early this week, they had all but given up until Jan had showed her the listing for the old Moss house down off Laurel street.  Not twenty minutes from the camp, they had taken the late afternoon to make a visit.  

“You _really_ like this?” 

“Yes,” She said. “It reminds me of our home in Bloomington, just… _older._ ”

“Well it certainly is old,” He mumbled before his attention was drawn to a dated model Chevrolet pulling up behind them.

A young man no older than thirty waved at the pair, giving them a toothy grin as he climbed out of his car. “Are you Kathryn and Chakotay?”

“Yes,” Kathryn beamed. “You must be Mr. Moss?”

“Jake,” He took her hand before his. “Nice to meet you both. So, you’re interested in this house?” 

“Yes,” Kathryn looked back at the large structure. “Very.”

“Eh,” Chakotay cut in weakly. “ _Well,_ Kathry-“

“I was wondering," She bubbled, ignoring him. "If we could see inside?”

“Oh, um,” The young man dug in his pocket for the old key. “Certainly. Follow me. Just uh, be careful on the stairs.  It’s been a while.”

Chakotay made a point to go first, testing each step.

“So uh, you heard about the house through the ad in the paper?” 

“Uh huh,” Kathryn nearly trampled him over the threshold into the dusty foyer.

Chakotay let out a series of sneezes as soon as his nose came into contact with the stale, grimy air. “Bless you,” Kathryn reached back automatically to pat him on the arm.

“This house has been on the market for ten years now. To tell you the truth we’re dying to get rid of it! Either sell it or bulldoze it, that’s what my wife said.”

 _“Bulldoze_ it?” Kathryn shuddered (Chakotay, on the other hand, saw merit in the idea). “A house like this?”

“It’s been in our family ever since I could tell you,” Jake deferred, looking around at the dumpy mess, hoping they'd bite. “When my grandmother died ten years ago she left it to me. But we already had a house!”

“How old is it, _exactly?”_   Chakotay asked.  

“Well...” Jake looked around, clearing a cobweb off his arm. “We never really looked into it, but I’d say late eighteen hundreds.  My grandmother grew up here. My great grandfather built it!”

“And you don’t want to keep it?” Kathryn’s tone was laced with astonishment at what he was willing to give up.

“Nope,” He shook his head. “We need the money and frankly we don’t know what to do with the place. It needs a lot of work.”

“Just how _much_ work?” Chakotay was already mentally tallying the production they’d need to put in to make the house even a _fraction_ the concept of habitable.

“Well...” Jake scratched his head, looking around at the foyer as he led them into the large kitchen. “The electrical should be fine, but you’re going to need someone to take a look at it. Plumbing... the house has its own well and septic tank so you’re fine there.  And well the yard needs its own maintenance...”

Chakotay’s hand grazed the dusty windowsill as he watched Kathryn pad around the unfamiliar space. She wasn’t listening to a word Jake Moss was saying.  She was in love with this house. 

“...And then you’ve got the windows," Jake kept on.  "This place was always really cold in the winter time, so you might need to get new ones… Uh,” He looked around, trying to see if there was anything he was missing.

“How much do you want for it?” Chakotay yielded, a smile peeking through at her excitement.

The young man stood back, a little skeptical. _“Are you sure?_ ”

“Yes,” Chakotay was helpless to say no. “How much?”

“Uh well, would it be too much to ask for sixty thousand?”

“We’ll take it.” 

“Don’t you want to see the upstairs first? A master, three bedrooms, two bathrooms…” He listed, trying to make a sale where he’d already made one.

"No," Chakotay smiled exaggerated dimples.  "We'll take it." 

“Well okay then!”

* * *

 

“Well, Kathryn,” He sighed, fingering the old set of keys in his hand as he looked out over their rickety purchase. “We’re home owners.”

“Mm,” She smiled at the old house with her giant porch, peeled paint, and garish green shutters, seeing not only what she _was,_ but what she _could be._ “She speaks to me.”

That brought a laugh. “Like Voyager?” 

“Yes. Like Voyager.” 

“This is going to be a lot of work.”

“I know.” 

“But it is remote…” She heard the smile in his voice.

Her tone lowered an octave as his implication. _“Very_ remote...  Chakotay," She looked at him seriously.  "Do you regret it? Think we should have kept looking?” 

“No," He put his arms around her shoulders as he surveyed the layout in front of him.  " _Not_ for a _second.”_


	109. Chapter 109

_“Kathryn!”_ Beth ran running up the steps into the centre.  _“Kathryn?”_

“In here, Beth!” Kathryn called over the din of laughter.  She was sitting in and amongst a gaggle of giggling girls, each of them squealing over the wet, slippery feeling of the damp clay against their hands. She herself was covered in the red earth, wet terracotta smudges staining her apron, hair, and face.

“Um,” She cleared her throat, leaning into the older woman.  “We have a little _bit_ of a problem.”

Kathryn’s hands fell down to her lap, spreading more orange on her bare legs.  “Oh?” She ran a mental tally of what could have gone wrong.  Absently, she looked out the windows in front of her; the canoes still seemed to be upright on the rickety shelf.   _And_ she hadn’t heard any blood curdling screams from outside. The building wasn’t on fire, and from what she could tell, none of the cabins were either.  “What is it, Beth? It’s not another snake is it? Because Carol isn’t here anymore and I don’t have the wherewithal-“

“No,” the young girl shook her head. “Timmy and Brian got into a little fight…”  

 _“Oh,_ ” Kathryn smirked. “And what, you want me to come talk with them?”

“Well, uh, you’re _more_ … Well it’s just that Ted, he’s not, and Jenny- she’s… And Chakotay’s not here…”

An elegant eyebrow hit her hairline. “So what you’re _trying_ to say is you want me to come and talk to them? _”_

“Yes, that’s what…” Beth let out a deep sigh.  “Well, would you mind?”

“No,” Kathryn smiled. “Stay here with the girls and make sure the building doesn’t collapse!” 

* * *

 

_“Katarina!” A loud booming voice accompanied the familiar rustle of papers and the accustomed thud of books knocked onto the ragged wooden floor by the girth of the Maestro’s enthusiasm._

_“Maestro?”_

_“This,” He examined the glob in front of him, turning his head from side to side, trying to appraise the mess from a different angle. “What is this…?”_

_“It’s,” She looked from her teacher back to her work.  Of course she knew it wasn’t any good as the face had always eluded her.  The hand she had already done to the Maestro’s satisfaction, but the human face was another beast entirely. "Well..."_

_He’d instructed her to choose someone from memory.  A 'true test' was what he’d called it – to make the fantasy, the physical; the imagined, palpable.  She thought on it for a while, aware that the seconds on the chronometer were busily skipping past and her time would soon be up._ _Who would she sculpt?  Mark. Yes, Mark her Fiancé... _ 

_So she’d set herself to work, carefully prodding at the wet clay, letting its texture seep underneath her fingernails, colour the apron she wore.  But nothing came to her.  She found his face was hazy and so the clay was left unformed in a shapeless mound with two circles in the place of eyes and a cartoon mouth._

_“No, Katarina…” The Maestro smiled, his voice holding a tone of a scolding father.  “You are trying too hard! Thinking too much!  Stop thinking,” He whispered. “Feel the clay.  What does it say to you?”  _

_So she stopped.  Instead of focusing so hard on the image of Mark, she let her mind drift to what had happened earlier on the bridge.  Blessedly, the day had been uneventful.  Chakotay had come to her ready room later in the afternoon to give her a status report and they’d spent the rest of their duty shift sorting through padds as they shared a laugh over the image of Tuvok trying to corral Chell, the garrulous Bolian, into running laps around the ship.  The clay forming under her hands, she remembered his laugh, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled._

_“Ah yes,” She heard the leer in the teacher’s voice. “Now, Katarina you understand. Look at his marvelous brow! Certainly, a David!” He rumbled, glinting down at his pupil._

_For the first time since she started again, she really looked at the clay in front of her trying to see her work through the Teacher’s eyes. And suddenly her stomach dropped ever so slightly at what she saw; she’d sculpted a passable effigy of her first officer._

A warm arm around her waist brought her back to the present.  “With a smile like that I hope it’s me you’re thinking about,” He teased, pressing a kiss into her cheek. 

“As a matter of fact,” She caught him before he went to pull away and met his lips with her own. “I was.” 

He took a seat next to her on the wooden bench. “Good things, I hope.” 

“Always good things,” She yawned, eyeing him suspiciously. “It’s late.”

“I know,” He looked out the windows onto the silent lake.  “I went to the house.”  

“The house?” 

“I stopped by on my way back from the school.”  

“You do regret it, don’t you?” She whispered. "Chakotay, I'm-" 

 _“No,_ ” He soothed, his gentle fingers nearly curling around the whole circumference of her dainty wrist. “I just wanted to see it. It makes our life here…”

“Real," She offered before he could find the word.

“Yes, real. What the kids get up to today?”

She gave a laugh, remembering earlier this morning.  “The little boys got into a fight.” 

 _“Oh?”_ Amused, he trailed a lazy finger gently across the pot she was sculpting.

“Yes,” She nodded. “And apparently, I have quite the reputation.”

 He smiled, "I can only imagine."  

“Mmm,  _Camp Disciplinarian.”_

He laughed out loud. “Now that, Kathryn, I don’t _doubt_ for a second!”

“So what were you doing at the house?”

 “Just looking.  What are you doing here so late?"  

She turned back to the clay. "Remembering.  I used to sculpt, or try, rather, in the Maestro's studio."  

"What did you sculpt?" He asked. 

"You once or twice.  It was our first year in the Delta Quadrant and the Maestro instructed to try faces.  Any face, he told me, from memory. So, I tried very hard to focus on Mark's photo  that I kept next to my bed. But," Kathryn shrugged.  "Nothing came."  

"And then?" 

"The Maestro laughed and told me to try again. To stop thinking and focus on what the clay wanted to say rather than what I wanted it to.  And then," She smiled fondly.  "There you were."

"Maybe the Maestro was trying to tell you something..." He looked a little too smug.  

 _"This,"_ she pointed at him, yawning through her words as she got up and replaced the wet cloth over her work.  "Is why I don't tell you things."  

 _"Oh?_ And why's that?"  

"Because," She leaned down to kiss him again before pulling him up to her.  "You're always just a little _too_ self satisfied."


	110. Chapter 110

_“Shhh,”_ He stifled a strangled laugh against her open lips, trying to quell the noise as he bumped her back into the front door. 

Dazed, Kathryn nodded seriously, eyes glazed over as her tongue snaked out to wet his lips. “ _Bed."_  She begged, frustrated that her legs kept slipping off his waist. _"Or,"_ Her head fell back against the door as he hoisted her so she was pressed against his erection.   _"Here. Here's good too..."_    

 _"Mmm okay,"_ He was distracted as he ground against her while his lips worked on the delicate expanse of her neck. 

How long had it been since they’d made love? Three weeks? More?  Their mornings followed a certain ritual wherein they would wake together before the camp started to rouse. And after only a few minutes, Kathryn left to supervise breakfast in the mess hall while Chakotay hurried out to set up for the camp’s daily activities before rushing off to the school.  

The past month had been busy. They had welcomed two new sets of campers, each group rowdier than the last and all of them excited to be at camp.  He was nearly disheartened that he wasn’t getting to see it as much as Kathryn, as his days were tied up at the school coaching and teaching.  

This morning in particular had started off normally enough. Kathryn left him in bed while she got up to get dressed and despite her best efforts to be as quiet as she could, he was up too soon after. They padded around one another in the kitchen, hips brushing as he hurried to make breakfast until she stopped him abruptly with a hand on his chest and pushed him against the low lying counter.  The rest was _history._  

Itchy fingers found themselves pulling at the hem of her shirt, frustrated at their abstemious lack of progresses through lust’s thick fog. “ _Kathryn,”_  He managed before reefing the shirt off and tossing it far away onto the cluttered dining table.  Her fingers, too, weren't idol as they slipped under the soft material of his boxer shorts and pushed them off his hips, leaving him naked before her.   _“Stop, stop,”_   Too excited, he dragged them those precious four steps into the bedroom before he pulled her down on top of him.  

 _“I love you,”_  She whispered, rolling her hips against his.  

His own breathing was quaky and uneven as work-roughened palms erotically slid over a smooth expanse of freckled skin.  "You're beautiful, Kathryn."  

His words drew a shaky laugh as she moved his erection through her ample wetness before she leaned down to kiss him.  "So are you."  

Chakotay slid into her easily, " _I've missed you."_

A low moan escaped her as she took him further inside of her, feeling the erotic, intimate press of him.  His intent was to go slowly and savour what they'd been missing.  But abstinence has its own way of spoiling things and before long she was begging, " _Please!"_ His movements were purposeful and measured, making her nails curl into his shoulder while her legs wrapped around him. 

Languishing in her sweet expressions of indulgence, his breath came in slow pants and even he couldn't stay the expressions of satisfaction that echoed off the walls of their small room.  Unimaginable pleasure emanated from the place where they were joined and she realised again that she could never be without him.  But just when she thought the sensation couldn't escalate anymore, she felt his thumb over the knotted bundle which brought a scream.  " _Chakotay!"_ His name was the only thing she could remember amid everything.  

Dully she heard his own shout and corresponding flood of warmth deep inside of her before he collapsed an an angle. "We _can't_ do this again."  

 _"What?"_ His voice was muffled in the messy sheets.  "Not do what?"  

"You know," She panted.   _"Not_ -go-"

"Oh," He nodded, kissing the slick space between her breasts.  "No," Chakotay promised her. "Never again."  

With a nudge she pushed at him.  "We have to get moving." 

But he wouldn't budge.  "Just a few more minutes," Chakotay finagled.  "Let me hold you." 

"Fine," She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, meeting his warm brown eyes.  "Tell me what you're going to do today." 

"Well," He leaned into her touch as she traced the dimple on his chin.  "I'm going to the school and then _afterwards_ I'm going to the house.  Mike is coming by in the evening to give me an estimate." 

"It's not going to be cheap," She grimaced.  "I'm sorry." 

"No," He kissed her forehead.  "It won't be cheap, but it doesn't matter.  We're making more with the camp now and I'm making enough as a teacher for the time being." 

"Teaching science," She teased.  "I never would have guessed." 

"Just for summer school," He glinted.  "They're looking for someone in the fall." 

"Do you want to do it full time?" 

"Maybe," He shrugged.  "Science has never been my strongest subject." 

"Well," She laughed, swinging her leg over his hip again, feeling him hardening against her.  "You could have fooled me, Mr. _Three Point Nine Eight."_

"Are you ever going to let that go?" 

"No," She shook her head, laughing.  "I'm having too much fun with it." 

"Well it doesn't mean anything," He kissed her again.  "What about you?" 

"What about me what?" 

"What are you doing today?" 

"The same," She smiled and patted the space over his heart in a familiar gesture. _"And_ I have to get going soon." 

"Me too," Regretfully, he leaned away and watched her leave the bed and quickly disappear into the bathroom before the shower hissed to life. 

 _"Chakotay?"_ She called over the warm current, amusement ringing her deep alto. _"Aren't you coming?"_


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still reading, commenting, or leaving kudos. You're all so so so stinking lovely and I want to hug each of you. Sorry I'm so dilatory these days. Almost done with third med! Where is the time going?!?!

_“Hen-ry.”_  

 _“Shan-non,”_  He mirrored her peeved inflection.

The tension knotted her shoulders and stiffened her neck as her stare bore into him from across the bed, on which a familiar suitcase lay packed and ready to be zipped. “It’s only for a week.”

 _“This_ time,” He grumbled, unable despite his best efforts to remain angry with her. He knew he was being unfair after all the sacrifices Shannon had made for him, for their family.  He should at least be able to give her this, to be supportive. But why was he finding it so hard?

 _"Henry,”_ She whispered. “ _Please_. This is my once in a lifetime.”

“That’s what you said about the Millennium Gate.”

“I know,” She moved near to him and took his hand in hers. “We don’t know if this is going to work. It’s only perfunctory. No deals have been made, no contracts signed. I’m not _moving_ to Washington.  But I _have_ to do this. For the last twenty five years I’ve been waiting for something like this to come my way.”

He heard the excitement in her voice and in the moment he could deny her nothing. This was the woman he fell in love with.  She was excited, passionate, driven. “I know,” He nodded, giving her a peck on the cheek before she turned her lips and caught his with her own.

“I want _this_ , Henry."

“I know. And,” Henry cleared his throat, letting go of her hand as he got up and rounded the bed to zip up her suitcase. “Whatever you decide to do, or whatever happens, you have our support.”

A genuine smile crossed her features. “Henry, I-”

 _“Let’s go, mom, we’re going to be late!”_ Aoiffe's voice rang through their bedroom.  

 _“I’m_ going to be late,” Shannon corrected her daughter amid the teenage scowl. “You’re not coming Aoiffe, not this time.”

“I’m _never_ going to leave this state," The young girl wailed histrionically. "I’m going to be stuck in Indiana _forever!”_

“Stop being a drama queen, Aoif,” Caleb rolled his eyes as he walked over to the bed and took the suitcase.

“Unlike you, Caleb, “ Aoiffe sneered. “I don’t want to stay in Indiana my whole life. Unlike you-“

“All right you two!” Henry cut between the two of them, making his way down the spiral staircase. “That’s _enough.”_

“One day,” Shannon came around to hug her daughter to her as they made their way down the hall. “You’re going to see the world. But for right now,” She kissed her hair. “I like to have you where I can keep my eye on you.”

“Is it true you’re going to meet the President, Mom?”

A loud guffaw erupted from Shannon’s throat. “Now Caleb, _who_ told you that?”

He shrugged, handing the suitcase to his father who shoved it in the trunk of the car. “Dunno, I overheard Jerry saying something on the phone about the President.”

“No,” Shannon stood up on her tiptoes to kiss her son’s forehead. “We’re going to be near enough to the Whitehouse, but no sweetheart, I won’t be meeting the President.”

“So what will you being doing then?”

“Well,” She turned around to regard her son as she clicked the seatbelt into place. “We’re going to be meeting with the people from NASA who are starting up the Mars Project and seeing if they want our collaboration.”

Aoiffe rolled her eyes, “Sounds boring.” 

“Oh,” Shannon smiled, lying. “It _will_ be.”

“So,” Caleb asked. “Who else is going?”

“Well, there’s me,” Shannon counted on her hand. “Jerry, Martin, Jacqui, and Ted.”

Aoiffe reached forward and took her mother’s purse, intent on finding a piece of gum when her attention was drawn to the plane tickets peeking outside of her wallet. _“First class?”_

 _“Aoiffe_ , put that back!” Her mother scolded.

“So I guess _this_ is kind of a big deal?”

“It will be,” Shannon turned her torso. “Aoiffe, I’m serious put that back and give me my purse.”

She evaded her mother until Caleb pried the stiff paper from her fingers and passed the heavy conglomerate to his mother’s hands. The teenager sulked. “I thought this was only meetings.”

“It _is_ , Aoiff,” Shannon did a once over of the bag before Henry turned the car onto the long overpass leading to the regional airport. “But they’re important meetings.”

* * *

 

“Well,” Henry sighed, smiling down at his wife once they reached the security gate.

 _“Well,”_ His wife mirrored.

“Be safe, Shannon,” His big hands came up to encircle her petite shoulders and rubbed in small tight circles. “This is the first time you’re leaving without me.”

Shannon lips curved into a forlorn half smile. “I’m not leaving, Henry.”

“I know,” He closed his eyes and nodded. “Just be careful, and call us once you get there.”

She moulded himself into his arms, her head finding its familiar spot on his broad chest. “I will. Take care of the kids.”

“Bye Mom,” Aoiffe’s arms came around the small woman and her father’s back and a second later another set of arms joined them.

“You two be good to your father,” Shannon admonished, her voice broken through unnecessary tears.

“We will,” Caleb rolled his eyes, smiling at Henry.

Henry pried them all away as the line for security dwindled, allowing her quickly through. “Okay. We’ll talk to you a little later, Shan. _Be safe,_ ” He called at her as she passed through security to meet her colleagues.

“Oh boy,” Henry whispered under his breath, watching her covetously until she disappeared before he and the kids turned and left the airport.


	112. Chapter 112

_“Well, eh..._ ” Befuddled, Mike scratched his head as he looked out over the large home. “You _bought_ the old Moss place?”

“I know,” Chakotay rubbed tired eyes, stifling a yawn into his fist. “I’ve taken a good look around-“

“And let me guess, there’s a lot of work to be done? Damnit, I could have told ye that!” His friend roared in confused laughter.  

“Well, a _good_ amount,” Chakotay conceded, smiling awkwardly through another yawn before a heavy palm met the space between his shoulders.

“Ya look like shit, Chakotay,” Mike ribbed. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“It’s been a while.”  And it had. May, June, and July had flown past. Caught up in the maelstrom of their new life, he’d found himself bereft of time for anything other than work. For all the lip service he and Kathryn gave to the precariousness of their existence in space, more and more he was finding that a life planetside could be just as daunting if not _more_.

“So,” Mike took a few good steps on the rickety porch before he opened the creaky old door to reveal the dusty foyer. “What’re we doing?”

“Well..." Chakotay walked into the living room, which seemingly hadn’t been touched since Grandma Moss’ departure. “We have to get rid of this furniture, that's for sure.” He pointed to the old dusty mustard couch, which had seen better days in the nineteen forties. To the left was an old, sunken chair whose tatters told stories that he’d rather not know. A television set reminiscent of the one Tom had on Voyager sat opposite the couch, and dirty cups and newspapers lay strewn about and covered in a thick layer of dirt and dust.  

“Yeah,” Mike nodded with a laugh. “We’ll salvage what we can, but damn no one’s touched this place in _years!”_

 _"_ I think the day he came and showed us the place was the first time this place has been opened in decade," Chakotay relayed. “The upstairs isn’t much better.  The master bedroom is in worse shape than all the rest." 

Mike eyes widened as they continued up the stairs.  "When I think of Evelyn Moss, this is what I think of,"  There was garbage everywhere he looked with old clothing stuck in corners and useless items hoarded in heaps. 

"You knew her?" 

"No," Mike gave a sniff at the odd smell of the upstairs.  "Not personally.  My parents did, though." 

"And?" 

"Crazy old bat," Mike continued his walk down the long corridor.  "We'll have to rip everything out.  The carpets, the wall paper..." 

“Well,” Chakotay’s hand found light switch and gave it a go. “The electricity still works.”

“There’s no reason why it shouldn’t, but I know a guy who can look at it and make sure it’s up to code. What about the plumbing?”

“I tried the toilet the other day,” He shrugged. “It flushes.”

“And the sinks?”

“Work. But what they're putting off looks more like sewage.”

“Yeah, I know a guy in town who can look at that, too.” Mike laughed, adding to the tally. “We’ll have to hire a dumpster, which won’t be hard, and throw all this shit out. The Mosses don’t want any of it?”

“No, they were talking of bulldozing this place.”

“Yeah,” He remembered. “I don’t remember Grandma Moss being the kind of person who people would miss…”

“I get the feeling.”

“All right, well. We can start tomorrow. I’ll get the boys in here and we’ll clear everything out. Is there anything you want to keep?”

“Well,” He’d kept a mental tally when he and Kathryn had walked through the house a few nights ago. “The tables can stay-“

“All of them?”

“Yeah, and so can the bed frames in the upstairs bedrooms – there’s only two. But the one in the master can go.”

“That’s right,” Mike smiled. “You made your own. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.”

“Everything else can go. I’ll be by in the afternoon after I leave the school.”

 “So," Mike leaned against the garish flowers on the wall.  "Whose idea was this place?”

“Kathryn’s. She loves this house.”

“You bought if for her, didn’t you?” Mike’s admiration from Chakotay seeped into his low whisper.

“I want to make her happy. And,” He looked around, taking in the space coloured in the low light of the summer evening. “I’ve never had a home before.  My whole life I’ve been running. When I met Kathryn, that run turned into a jog, and now I feel I’ve finally learned how to be still."  His voice petered out into a murmur. “I want to build something with her and our family.”

That familiar burly arm came up to rest on his bicep. “You’re a good man, my friend. Kathryn’s one lucky woman.”

“I want to give her this house,” He told him earnestly. 

“Well you will and I’ll do everything that I can to help you, all right?”

“Thank you, Mike,” Chakotay smiled through yet another yawn as they made their way out in to the cool summer’s night. “I don’t know how to repay you for all of this.”

“You’ll find a way,” Mike joked. “We’ll be here tomorrow morning. You’re sure you just want the tables?”

“Just the tables and the two other bed frames.”

“All right,” Mike cleared his throat as he reached his car. “Oh and Chakotay-“

“Hmm?”

“For Christ’s sake, go home and get some sleep!”


	113. Chapter 113

_“Chakotay?”_ The lights were off and the house lay silent bar the steady crickets' song and the subtle laughter of the children doing a poor job of hiding the fact that they were still up after lights out. " _Are you home?"_

* * *

 

_After the children had gone to bed and the students had resigned to the mess hall for a late dinner, Kathryn had quietly taken a walk down by the lake. It seemed so long now that she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had time alone.  For seven years, she’d felt the moments pass but now it felt she couldn't even catch up.  So this evening, she had decided to relegate the pile of work she had for morning and leave the students in charge of their own entertainment while she retired to seclusion._

_The lake was still warm, she smiled, a testament to the heat of the day. Her toes wriggled in the sand and she felt the texture soothing the aches in her arch. For the moment she thought wading would be enough, but the the warm water reminded her of a bath and before she knew it she had stripped to her underwear and swum out to the trampoline not far off the shoreline._

_She took a deep breath before falling back against the water to look up at the bright stars. She remembered looking at these same constellations as a girl and thinking they were hers; that she owned them even before she was among them. Her whole life she’d wanted to escape and be anywhere but Earth. Sometimes, she thought of the stationary life that Mark wanted and cringed. Of course, she respected him for having that desire; not everyone wanted to be out adrift in the vast expanses of the galaxy.  But oh how much she’d changed since then! Seven years in the Delta Quadrant had a way of making her wish for the one thing she never wanted._

_She breathed out deeply and felt herself sink before another breath inflated her lungs and brought her back up to the surface. Her arms stretched out and she opened her legs, making a cross with her body as she tried to stay in one place. One place. That, she realised, was what she wanted. And maybe it was what she had always wanted, but kept running for other reasons._

_Kathryn never thought about having children with Mark. But after that first year in the Delta Quadrant, in the back of her mind, they were all she could think about. And those little babies always looked them same: chubby and bronzed with black hair and amber eyes.  The image made her smile as her hand drifted down to the stretched skin of her belly. “Hello,” she whispered. “It’s been a while…”_

* * *

 

 _“Chakotay,”_ She nudged him as she slipped on one of his shirts. But he didn't move. _“Chakotay!”_ Still no response as she climbed on the bed next to him, trying to ascertain in the dark some way to sleep without having to move him. But there wasn’t one; he couldn’t have chosen a more _awkward_ angle to sleep at! “Chakotay,” She bent to his ear. Nothing. Not even a muscle twitch.

 _“Ugh!”_ She rolled her eyes. “The man could sleep through a warp core breach!”  She didn’t want to, but mustering her best command voice she tried again. “ ** _Chakotay!”_**

“What!” His body jolted, an immediate tension rigouring his muscles. 

“It’s okay," She laughed morbidly.  "It’s just me.”

“Kathryn,” He yawned, that strain leaving his shoulders almost instantaneously as he clumsily planted a kiss on her cheek.

“I tried to wake you,” She pointed to the mattress. “You’re taking up the _whole bed.”_

“Oh,” He looked down and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” She kissed tired lips. “Just move over.”

“Where were you tonight?” He rearranged himself on the bed and gathered her next to him, throwing his leg over her thigh.

Kathryn pulled his arm tightly around her chest. “I went for a swim.”

“Oh,” He nodded against her hair. “Alone?"

"I wanted time to think."  

"Is everything okay?"  

“Yes," She squeezed the arm around her waist.  "It’s been so long since I was able to _just..._ “

“Breathe?” His voice fanned her neck.

“Yes.” 

“I met with Mike at the house today. We’re going to start tomorrow with the renovations.”

A thought suddenly struck her, and she was angry that it hadn’t occurred to her before. “Chakotay?”

“Hmm?” She could tell by the tone in his voice that he was already falling back to sleep.

“Chakotay,” She said his name again, louder this time.

“I’m listening, Kathryn,” His arms tightened around her. “What?”

“Are you sure you can do all of this?”

He laughed, the sound muffled against her hair, “Isn’t that my line?” 

“I’m serious, Chakotay. I hardly see you anymore.”

 _“Kathryn,”_ He untangled his arms from her  and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “We just bought a home, we both work full time-“

“I know-“

“So you of all people should understand.”

“I _do_ but-“

“It won’t always be like this, I hope," He breathed, settling again.  "But we’re still _riding_ the poverty line _and_ we’ve got a house to fix up before the baby comes.  Not to mention, we have that loan from the bank, and…” His hand reached down to cradle the half sphere of her stomach. _“Not_ a lot of time."  

“I know,” she turned in his arms. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve lost even _more_ weight, the circles under your eyes get darker every day, _and_ -“

"You sound like me,” There was a smile in his voice.  

She hit his arm as he yawned again, “I’m serious.”

“I know.” A cheeky smile brought two dimples out of hiding. “Now, can we please, _please_ get some sleep before we have to wake up again?”

She cradled his chiseled cheek in her palm as she moved closer to capture his lips with her own. "Yes." 

"Thank you," He kissed her nose and buried his nose in the crook of her neck.  

“Goodnight, Chakotay.”

“Goodnight, Kathryn,” he kissed burnished hair before sleep quickly recaptured him.

“I love you, Chakotay,” She whispered, knowing he was already asleep judging by the soft even timbre of his breathing. _“And thank you.”_


	114. Chapter 114

_“Oh...”_  

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the headrest. The truck was sweltering in the heat of the summer afternoon, but for the moment he was completely ambivalent and simply happy to be alone while he sipped at his new favourite beverage.

He dared not drink it when he was at home.  On alternate days it would make her either jealous or nauseous and he could never predict which day would be which. So he’d taken to treating himself to it while he was out.   _Who knew just how many varieties of coffee existed?_ Iced, mocha, cappuchino, latte, iced half caf mochachino latte…! The first time he stepped inside a coffee shop, he’d nearly found himself wishing for the universal translator.  

He had taken baby steps with his orders, starting out with a basic black coffee. It was good enough, but it didn’t have the same appeal to him as it did to Kathryn and so he found himself doctoring it with anything  he could find: sugar, cream, nutmeg, cinnamon... Next time, black coffee turned into the latte. And the latte was fine for a while, but then he got a little more adventurous and splurged on something called a _‘frappuchino’._ It was ridiculous, when he thought of it, spending three to five dollars for something he could make on his own. But the experience of the coffee shop was something _else_ entirely. But he budgeted himself; once a week and _only_ when _necessary._

He’d called Rachel _‘Megan_ ’ at least six times this morning. And for the five hours of practice he’d completely forgotten Rishon’s name, instead choosing absently to address him as “ _hey you!”_ couched in a floppy smile hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He did.

_“You okay, Coach?” Alex looked at his sideways while he precariously swung his lacrosse stick in the air like a baton._

_“Yeah,” Liz volunteered with a suspicious squint. “You’re a little… off…”_

He was.  

He yawned, taking another sip of the creamy coffee as he thought of Kathryn.  She was no better.  In fact she was almost _as bad_ as him. Last week at her physical, Dr. Thompson had given her and the baby a clean bill of health with the admonishment to Kathryn to _get more rest._  But trying to get Kathryn to settle down and rest was like corralling cats. _She didn’t know how!_ After seven years, even their own EMH had given up his speech of reprove, instead finding ways to medically ignore her idiosyncratic behaviours.

Today, like every morning, the subtle vibration of his phone under the pillow had woken him before the sun rose. During the night, Kathryn had wrapped herself around him. Her leg twisted around his thigh with a burgeoning belly pressing into his side and an arm wrapped all the way around his waist. He smiled and kissed her forehead before taking care to extricate himself without waking her.  He trimmed along the mattress until he reached the edge. Then, letting a leg fall over the side, he planted one foot squarely on the floor before he began the rest of his acrobatic routine.  Standing at the side of the bed, he admired her in the faint light of the morning. She looked different now when he compared her to who she was on the ship. Her skin was darker with a thousand tiny freckles all the more prominent. His gaze followed her torso where it left the sheets, up over her shoulders to her long hair splayed in a fiery halo atop the pillow. The fine point of her nose led him down to her mouth. For too long he’d seen the crease of her mouth bend downwards in an unbroken frown. But now _she smiled_ and the pleat had reversed itself to tell a different story.

A buzzing in his pocket brought him back to the present. “Hello?”

“ _Chakotay? Yeah, it’s Mike. Listen, ya know in the living and dining room, the pink carpet?”_

“Hi, Mike, yeah. What about it?” He pictured the cringable flooring that hideously matched the wall paper.

“ _Well, the boys were looking underneath it when we were taking out the furniture, and it looks like there’s a nice wooden floor underneath it. Do you want us to rip the rest of the carpet up?_

The question was almost moot. “Do. I’m on my way over right now.”

_“All right, do you want us to wait ‘till you get here?”_

“No, no,” He shook his head, placing the cup in the holder as he turned on the ignition. “I’ll be right there to help out.”  Rest, it looked like, would have to wait.  

* * *

Driving up to the house, he hardly recognized it. Out in front sat a large dumpster filled to the brim with old furniture and discarded knick-knacks. _“Chakotay!”_ Mike bounded down the steps amid the hullaballoo of the front yard to greet his friend. “Sorry about the landscaping.”

“Can’t be helped,” Chakotay smiled. “Thank you, Mike. You’ve gotten all this done in a day?”

“Sure did.  We’ve gotten everything out of the living room, and the boys are tearing up the carpet in the dining room.”

 **“What about the carpeting upstairs?”** He asked as they walked towards the house whose walls echoed a loud beat dubbed questionably with lyrics that Chakotay had regrettably become accustomed to during the construction at the camp.

 **“I’d assume the same!”** Mike called over the din as they walked upstairs away from the harsh beat. “The house is definitely historic.  Over two hundred years old, if my estimates are correct. I don’t know _why_ they covered every floor in these carpets. The wood underneath is beautiful!”

“We’ll have to sand it,” Chakotay thought out loud as they crossed in and out of the rooms on the second level.

“You still look like shit, my friend,” Mike laughed. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

Chakotay coyly pulled on his ear lobe.“A few hours.” 

“You know,” Mike leaned against the doorframe. “It’s not supposed to be like this until _after_ the baby comes!”

“So I’ve heard!” He chuckled.   

“I mean these are supposed to be the months when you take it easy! Soon enough you’ll have two AM feedings, five AM wake ups…”

“I get the picture,” Chakotay held out his hands in acquiescence, a smile bringing dimples out; he couldn’t be more excited, even if it meant less sleep than he was getting now. “Did you find anything interesting while you were throwing things out?”

“In here?” Mike smirked. “No mostly just old newspapers, some chintzy porcelain crap, which we threw out, and some old moth eaten bed covers. I called Bill, he’s going send someone out to look at the plumbing later this week.”

“Thank you, Mike,” Chakotay walked over to the edge of the room and pulled up the dusty blue carpet revealing the hardwood underneath. “Was there an adhesive, or was the carpet just laid down?”

“From what we can see the Mosses just laid down some carpet, thank God. It doesn’t look like we’ll have to completely sand the whole thing!”

“Good,” He sighed his relief. “We’ll just buff it down then. I can do that this weekend.”

“The whole house?”

“Why not?” He’d done more in a day when he was a boy helping his father on Dorvan. "I'll just start early." 

“I’ll come out and help,” Mike smiled. “I know you’re anxious to get this place done.”

“It’s no trouble, Mike,” He conceded. "But I'd appreciate the help." 

"I'd be glad to.  I think Ginny's taking the kids shopping so I'll have most of the day to myself." 

"Thank you," He said as they made their way around to the master bathroom.  "I really do appreciate it." 

"Don't thank me," Mike patted his back.  "What are you two thinking about doing for furniture?"

"Well, Jan and Gregg are giving us their old stuff from storage."  

"That was nice of them," His friend smiled.  "No doubt they're keen to get rid of it!" 

"I don't know what we'd do without them," Chakotay took in the large room.  "I'll have to set a date to redo this as well." 

Mike followed his line of sight and leaned against the vanity. "It's a little dated.  Bathtub's nice though."  

"That's what Kathryn said," He smiled, rubbing his eyes again.  "We'd better get to work." 

"You gonna be all right, my friend?" 

"Fine," Chakotay repeated a commonly used adage.  "Just fine, Mike.  Let's get to work." 


	115. Chapter 115

“Pink?”

His voice was so eager she couldn’t help but smile. “No. Chakotay, what if it’s _not_ a girl?”

“But it _is_ a girl,” He persuaded. 

“Oh so if it’s a girl she has to like pink?”

 _“Kathryn,”_ He rolled his eyes, crouching down on his knees to look at the other colour choices. “You’re not going to rope me into another one of your arguments on gender roles.”

“No," She smiled at the annoyance in his voice.  "But why do men always _assume_ that women like pink?"

“Okay. _I’m_ sorry. How about this lovely brown?” He held up a can sporting the most hideous colour swatch she’d ever seen. “Is this sufficiently gender neutral?”

“No,” She swatted his shoulder, unable to help the smile that pulled at her cheeks. “You’re incorrigible! What about a nice cream?” 

Her finger pointed to one of the cans she was on eye level with. “Sure,” He groaned getting up from the ground as his knees grated against the floor. _“I’m getting old.”_

 _“Shhh,”_  She covered his mouth with the palm of her hand. “ _Don’t say that!”_

“What?” He laughed, laying a kiss to her palm. “It’s true!”

“If _you’re_ old,” Her finger landed in the centre of his chest. “Then that means I’m old, and I am _not_ old.” 

“Of course. You’re right,” He nodded and grabbed her hand while he scanned the ample selection of cream hues. “My mistake.”

She pointed to the colour she’d initially chosen. “That one's nice.” 

"Okay," He let go of her hand to put the can in the basket.  "I even like that for the rest of the house.”

“As long as we get rid of that terrible wall paper, we could paint could paint it red for all I care!”

“Like a French bordel?” He laughed. “I don't know, that’s a little too _Tom Paris_ for me...”

 _“Chakotay!”_ She laughed and pointed to another swatch in front of a canister a ways down. “What about a champagne for the downstairs?”

"Instead of the baby cream?"  

"Yes," She nodded, scanning the other swatches. "Do you mind?" 

“No," He shook his head and put two more cans in the basket. "It feels like I haven’t seen you in _weeks."_  

"I know," She looked at him wistfully.  "We've been busy." 

“Can you believe the summer’s almost over?”

“No," She gave a wry chuckle.  "Can you believe that we’re running a camp, you’re coaching high school sports ,or that we’re having and baby moving into a new house?”

“No. Not in a million years. I wonder what they’re doing now?”

“The crew.” She looked down, her shoulders tilting. “I wonder about them all the time.”

“Me too.”

“What do you think they're doing right about now?"  

“I don’t know,” He breathed, scanning the walls for rollers and trays. “Mike said he needed me to get blue tape?”

“This?” She held up a roll of exactly that.

“Must be. He said we needed a few.”

“I hope they got home. Tuvok would make sure they did,” She honestly believed her words. “He’s probably done a better job than _I_ did!”

They sauntered the small aisles once more before taking their items to the till to pay just as the shop closed for the evening.“What makes you say that?” 

“He won’t stop at every nebula along the way,” She smirked.  "He's a little more efficient." 

They bayed their conversation while the cashier rang up their items.  "Looks like we'll be getting rain," He said as Chakotay replaced the items in the cart.  

"We could use it," Kathryn looked out at the pregnant skies.  

"Hopefully it won't last for too long," The young boy smiled.  "That'll be fifty five fifty please." 

Chakotay looked at her while he fumbled in his pockets,"Do you have change?"  

"Here," She reached into her own for exact change.  

"Thanks," The young boy produced a receipt.  "Have a good night." 

"You too," Chakotay replied as they stepped out into the muggy afternoon. “And you weren’t?” 

"I wasn't what?" 

"Efficient." He reminded her of their earlier conversation. 

"No,” she shook her head. “I wasn't.  For someone who paid a lot of lip service to the idea of getting home, and getting there fast…” 

“We certainly did our fair share of sightseeing," He chuckled as he opened her door for her.  

"That we certainly did." .  

“No one complained, Kathryn.” 

 _“Chakotay.”_  

“Okay, there _were_ some who wanted to get home. But I wasn’t one of them, and I _don’t_ think _you_ were either.”

"Maybe I didn't," She reflected. "Maybe I was too enamoured with the journey." 

"Maybe we all were," He told her softly as the car came to pull up in front of the house.  

Kathryn chuckled, unbuckling her belt and relaxing into the seat. “Mmm, I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“I can’t wait for you to see inside. We ripped up the carpet and found this _beautiful_ wooden floor. Mike and I are going to buff it down this weekend.”

"Thank you for this, Chakotay," She moved towards him, as close as the centre console would allow. “Do you really think they’ll get home?”

 _“Yes,”_ He leaned in towards her, laying a kiss on her hair. “I think they’ll get home.”

“Good," She let the moment set, allowing her thoughts to percolate while she considered the lashes of rain emphatically falling on the windshield. “I think I know why I kept stopping, Chakotay.”

“Why did you keep stopping, Kathryn?”

Lithe fingers traced the intricate curve of his upper lip. “I kept stopping because I was already home.”

"We both were," He smiled softly at her.  "When I met you I found home." 

"So did I," She kissed him softly.  "Come on," She opened her door.  "Show me around so we can get back to the camp.  I promised the little girls I'd do some crafts with them this evening." 

"More friendship bracelets," He pointed to the heaped macrame on her wrists.

"Yes," She laughed.  "They're so sweet." 

"How do you do that?" 

"How do I do what?" She looked at him quizzically.

"Make everyone fall in love with you."

His comment drew laughter.  "It only matters where you're concerned.  Come on," She jumped down from the rise.  "Show me what you've been up to."  


	116. Chapter 116

“It’s been a while since you sat in my kitchen.”

 _“Too long_ ,” Kathryn smiled over the swath of papers between them. 

“Mm. _So_ , Kathryn _.”_

Rifling through her pad, Kathryn grinned at Jan’s accustomed use of the word before amusedly and familiarly bouncing it back on her.  _“So, Jan.”_

A laugh bubbled up from her chest. “Gregg hates it when I do that _.  Jan_ ,” She imitated his voice.  “ _I’m never going to guess what you’re going to say so you might as well just say it!”_

Kathryn was continually struck by how much Jan reminded her of Gretchen.  

  _“So,” Gretchen looked her daughter up and down from across the table. “Have you and Mark set a date yet?”_

 _“No,” Kathryn held back a cringe at the implication._

_“Well Phoebe-“_

_“I know.” Kathryn glared.  Her sister had gotten engaged two weeks prior and had set a date almost before the ring had slid onto her finger._

_“I’m just saying,” Her mother took a deep breath, evening her tone, trying to remain neutral. "It's-"_

_“I know what you’re saying, mom,” Kathryn fidgeted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.  “I'm just not ready to get married.  We’ll talk about setting a date once I get back from the Badlands…”_

_“Katie,” her voice was soft as she took Kathryn’s hand from across the table. “If you don’t want to marry Mark…”_

_“Mark is fine,” Kathryn covered.  “He takes care of Molly.”_

_Gretchen laughed, the vigour of her mirth splashing her tea messily over the cup’s shallow brim.  “He takes care of Molly?!  Kathryn that’s no basis for a marriage!”_

_Even Kathryn couldn’t help the smile that turned her lips. “Mark’s a good man…”_

_“I know he’s a good man," Gretchen’s smile subsided, replaced by a matronly grace.  She knew her daughter, and she knew Mark.  And she'd know from the moment she brought him home and introduced him not as her friend, but as her beau, that this wasn't the man for her daughter.  “But maybe…”_

_“Maybe what?”_

_Gretchen grappled with diplomacy.  “I just can’t help but feel that there might be someone else for you, Kathryn."_

“Kathryn?” Jan’s soft voice cut through her daydream.

 “Sorry. What was it you wanted to ask me, Jan?”

“You were a million miles away just now,” Her friend whispered. 

“I was thinking about my mother,” Kathryn took a deep breath and exhaled, creating waves and currents in the cooling water of her tea.  “Gretchen.” 

“You miss her,” Jan remembered her own mother, how much she longed for her and how the years never dulled that keen yearning. 

“You remind me of her,” Kathryn smiled, meeting her eyes.  “The things you say, how you say them…”  

Jan’s eyes lit with the compliment. To say how she felt about Kathryn, how she loved her, how she quelled that dull ached that started when she learned she would never have a child of her own… But for now, she was content to nod her head, and allow the emotion to lay itself across her features. “ _Thank you_ , Kathryn.”

Kathryn cleared her throat, punctuating and put aside the moment.  “Well.” 

 _“Well,”_ Jan reflected. “I can’t believe it.  We’re done for the summer! _And_ it’s been so busy that I’ve hardly caught sight of you in the past three months. So, tell me truly, how was it?”

“It was...” Kathryn thought on it. “Well, it was wonderful, Jan. Busy and tiring. The work was different from anything I've done before, but... it was _good."_

"Happy it's over?"   

“I have to say,” She yawned. “That I am excited at the prospect of _seeing_ my husband more. But the work was gratifying.“

“You made a difference in the lives of those children and their parents,” Jan whispered, her voice a weave of enchantment before she asked the ultimate question. “Will you stay?”

 _“Stay,”_  Kathryn repeated the word wistfully.  The thought was one she put out of her mind, replacing its space with the banalities of her daily activities, her life in the present; her child and her marriage. Would they stay? Where else would they go?  “Yes. Yes, of course we’ll stay .  If you want us to stay,” It was half a question.  

“Of course,” Jan smiled as a weight lifted from her shoulders.  _“Of course_ we want you to stay, Kathryn."     

“Well good.  It's settled them.” she breathed in relief at the security. “Besides, I don’t think you could get rid of us.  We already bought a house!”  

“Mmm.  One which I still have yet to _see!”_

 Kathryn laughed thinking of how little she herself had seen the house in the past few weeks. She had been tied up, like usual, with the camp. Only just this morning she had said goodbye to the last group of children and they had officially closed for the year.  It was only after the last little one was bundled into the big yellow bus, and all the counsellors had driven away, she had found herself alone on a suddenly quiet property.  For three and a half months she’d forgotten the sound of silence, and for a moment she found it paradoxically desperate and comforting.  It was a sound, she decided, to be enjoyed - revelled in before the hullabaloo that the next few months- years - would bring.   “Chakotay is there every day. He’s so _excited_ about the house, the work he’s doing.”  

“So Gregg tells me. He’s there almost as much as Chakotay and Mike!” 

“I think he just likes time with _‘the boys’_ ” Kathryn smiled.  

“That’s what I say.  Personally, I can't wait to see how the old furniture looks in the place!” 

“About that," Kathryn said. "I wanted to thank you again for-“

“Don’t you _dare_ thank me, Kathryn Janeway,” Jan cut her off with a mock sternness. “I've become deaf to those two words from you.”

“Sorry,” She wasn’t really. “Force of habit.” 

“Well it’s a bad one,” Jan came around the island, laying a kiss on Kathryn’s forehead as her hand found its way to the swollen belly.  “What do you say you and I go and bother the boys?” 

A crooked smile crept on Kathryn’s features.  “Give them a few pointers?”

“Oh,” Jan nodded seriously. _“Just_ a few...” 

“We might be ruining their fun…” Kathryn did a poor job of swallowing her amusement with the notion as she hopped down from the stool to collect her bag. 

“Who said _anything_ about their fun?!”

Their amused laughter echoed all the way out the door into the truck. 


	117. Chapter 117

“Well now, Kathryn I don’t-“ Jan’s stomach almost fell out from under her as she clambered down from the rise of the truck. _“Greggory!”_ Her voice was stern. _“Greggory Richards get down from that ladder!”_

“Sweetheart,” Gregg rolled his eyes, elocuting his voice over the raucous of the nail gun on the new roof shingles. “I’m just _fine!”_

“Greggory!” Jan stood at the base of the metal rise, holding it unnecessarily in place while glaring up at him. “So _this_ is what you’ve been doing?”

Relinquishing the tool, he smiled down at his wife. “If by _‘what you’ve been doing’_ , you mean exercising my manhood, then yes.”

“Exercising-?“ Jan stammered, amusedly coming up with her own comeback. “Exercising your manhood? Greggory, you do that enough!”

“Well, honey, you know the secret to a healthy marriage…” He drew a laugh from Kathryn as she passed.

 _“Kathryn!”_ Mike bounded down the reinforced porch steps to meet her. “How are you?”

“Just fine, Mike,” She regarded the clean front lawn. “Where’s the dump?”

“Oh we hauled that off weeks ago! So,"He held his arms wide.  "What do you think so far?”

“I’m excited to see what you've have been up to,"  She looked around excitedly. "Where’s the man of the house?” 

“Chakotay? He just left half an hour ago to get some more paint. He should be back soon, uh, do you want to see the place?”

Kathryn returned his amiable grin as she followed him into the house.“Thank you, Mike. I’d love to.  I hardly see Chakotay anymore, he's always-” She stopped short as the house looked completely unlike the mess that it had been a few weeks ago. 

 _“Different?”_ Mike volunteered proudly. “Chakotay, he's - Well,” He stopped to look at her fondly. “He’s crazy about this house and trying making it perfect for you.”

“I know,” Kathryn nodded, touched by the man’s sincerity, his deep respect for Chakotay.

“So what do you think of the walls?” 

“I like the cream,” She laughed, remembering a similar colour adorning the walls of an isolated shelter thousands of light years away.

“Actually,” Mike corrected cheekily, unable to keep the gregarity out of his deep tibre. “The correct colour would be _Sands of the Everglades.”_

“Oh well,” Kathryn laughed. “Beige? Sands of the Everglades? I've always thought I looked good in both!”

“That’s what Chakotay said,” Mike chuckled. “He even suggested a pinstripe for the kitchen!”

“And let me guess, polka dots for the bathroom?”

“You guessed it,” He nodded before he heard one of the boys calling his name from outside. “No rest for the wicked I’m afraid. Take a look around, Kathryn, and holler if you need anything. Chakotay should be back soon.”

“Thank you Mike.”

She turned her attention back to the empty home. The downstairs was a simple layout consisting of a kitchen, bathroom, living, and dining room. The use of space was traditional, much like her parent's home in Bloomington.  The newly finished wooden floorboards creaked concertedly under her sandals as she sauntered languidly through the rooms. _Their_  rooms. _Their home!_  Not even in San Francisco had she a flat of her own. The thought of buying something, of doing _more_ than renting a Starfleet flat felt too permanent, _too settled_ when at that point she had seen her life as having hardly begun.

Her fingers traced the smoothness of the bannister as she walked up the grating antique stairs. The smell of fresh paint was pervasive, overwhelming, even amid the open windows as she walked in and out of the many rooms.  She stopped in the master, looking at the empty space and for a moment imagining the finished product. How would their bed would look against the far wall? Would he make a sand painting to hang over it? She thought of some of her own pieces that could go near the window.  Now, she could see them together in this place, and hear the whispers these walls would soon hold. _This_ was the life they were meant to have together: one spent making love, working, creating.

She was so spellbound by her own thoughts that the footsteps behind her hardly registered until warm arms wrapped around her waist and large hands protectively and reverently cradled the swell of her belly. “ _I thought I’d find you here,_ ” He whispered.

She smiled as her own hands came up to tangle with his. “Hello stranger.”

He laughed against her hair, “I almost had to stop myself.  Just _who_ was this beautiful intruder in my wife’s and my bedroom?”

 _“Beautiful?"_ She snorted. "Hardly. More like fat and clumsy these days.”

“Fat?” He guffawed, lips finding the smooth skin of her shoulder. “Oh, Kathryn, that’ll be the day...”

“Mmm,” she rolled her eyes. “Mike said you were in town.”

“I went to get paint for the kitchen.”

“For the pinstripe?” 

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” She smiled. "It would look ridiculous!”

“But we’re still on for the polka dots in the bathroom, though, right?”

“Oh,” She turned in his arms. “Definitely. Get started on that immediately, _Commander_.”

Warm fingers came up to tangle in long hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the camp to say goodbye.”

“I didn’t expect you to be,” She told him softly.  "You were busy." 

 _“Still,_ I-” He started, but she silenced him with a kiss.

 _“Chakotay!”_ Gregg’s voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs, breaking their embrace.   _“Jan and I are going to take off.  We just got called to the hospital. Why don't you show Kathryn the living room and see what she thinks.“_

“What’s in the living room?” Kathryn started down the creaky steps to Jan and Gregg on the landing.

“We got the furniture out of storage today,” Gregg told her. “Take a look. Mike already took off. He said he'd be back with the boys tomorrow morning. Chakotay?“

“Yes, Gregg?” He opened the front door for the couple.  

“Don’t forget to-“

 _“Lock the windows_ ," Chakotay winked "I remember.”

Gregg laughed and held up his hands. “I’m just reminding you!”

“Lock the windows?” Kathryn quested.

“Storm tonight,” Jan smiled. “Thunder _and_ lightening.  Oh, I hope we’re out in time to see it! I don’t think we’ve had one good one this summer and today’s the _perfect_ day for it!”

“Enjoy your night. We’ll see you tomorrow,” He had one foot out the door, his wife on his arm. “Oh and Kathryn, well done this summer. I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough for what you did with the camp. And I don’t think the praises from the parents and students have stopped pouring in about you, or the camp this year!" 

“It was nothing, Gregg,” Kathryn blushed. “But thank you.”

“It was something,” He smiled genuinely before the sky darkened and the first drops of heavy rain began to fall. “We’ll have to celebrate later this week! _Enjoy the night,_ " He called from the truck.   _"And the storm!”_


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so so so stinking lovely and leaving kudos and comments. What do I do with all of you?

“When I was a little boy-” He started only to be interrupted by the slight hiccup of her body in laughter. “Did I say something funny?”

She turned in his arms, her eyes bright in amusement. “I’m just trying to imagine you as a little boy.”

He laughed, his lips brushing her forehead while the heavy rain bleated noisily on the windows. “Sometimes it’s hard to imagine it myself!”

Lithe fingers tracing that precious smile and the dimples it left in his cheeks. “Tell me what you were like as a boy, Chakotay,” She whispered.  

 _“What I was like as a boy?_ ” He repeated her words, leaning into her palm. “Well I was _very_ contrary.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Kathryn smirked. “That’s something someone told you and somehow you’ve just kept on repeating it. _No, w_ _hat_ were _you_ like as a _boy?_ ”

A sigh depressed his chest as he tried to remember. “I’ve forgotten so much of who I was. For so long I made such an effort to leave him behind. But, I suppose I was curious.  I was _always_ getting in trouble with my mother by touching things, breaking them. _‘Enyeto!_ ’ she’d scold _‘put that down before you break it!_ ’”

 _“Enyeto?”_  

“It means laughter,” He told her.  "She always called me that." 

“Did you laugh a lot, Chakotay?” Her voice was quiet, examining him and his features in the dim light sneaking through the clouds and the rain.

"Yes," His eyes met hers. “All the time.”

 _“Enyeto,_ ” He closed his eyes at her mimicry of the word. Her deep inflections in the endearment were her own, and to his ears it was the sweetest sound. “For so long you didn’t smile. For seven years on Voyager, I almost never heard that laugh that I love so much.”

He moved his body further back on the couch and burrowed his face in the soft skin of her neck. “There wasn’t always time for joy on the ship, Kathryn.”

“I know,” she whispered into fragrant raven hair. “I’-“

“And don’t apologise,” His warm breath tickled her skin, making her smile with his adamancy. “That was our life then.”

“Are you ever sorry we’re here?” She had never asked the question before.

“Am I ever sorry we’re here?” He repeated, thinking on the question before he formulated an answer.

“If Voyager came for us tomorrow, would you want to go back?” The question had been sitting on her tongue since New Earth when Tuvok’s comm. call had interrupted their day, taking them away from his boat and her river.

He rose up on his arms over her. _“Would you?”_

“I don’t know,” She answered honestly. “We- _I_ made a promise to that crew to get them home. We don’t know what is going to happen in this world, Chakotay. For _some reason_ things are changing. _But_ …”

“But?” He pushed impatiently. 

“I don’t know,” That crooked smile appeared. “But what does it matter? It’s been almost nine and a half months since we came here, and Voyager still hasn’t found us. And as ingenious as our crew is, I doubt they ever will. So what does it matter?”

 _“It doesn’t_ ,” Warm breath caressed her lips, inviting her to meet him half way.

Tongues slid against one another, wetting familiar lips, tracing teeth and palates. His kisses became desperate and fanned the easy flame of her own desire. _“Chakotay,”_ She pulled her lips away from him.  Loud thunder clapped and shook the house, making her jump.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, peeling the loose top off her body and letting it fall in a pile on the floor.

She reached for him again, undoing the zipper on his blue jeans, shoving them down in one sweep with his boxer shorts. “ _Wait,_ ” He slowed frantic hands to savour the moment between them.

She took the quiet moments to look at him in the low light.  The work had changed his body, she thought as she traced the lines and creases that illustrated him. He beamed under her appraisal, silently making his own. "You look different," She said.  "Not even like you did on New Earth." 

"I think it's the hair," He teased, running his fingers through the curly mop atop his head.  

"That too," She laughed.  "But no.  Your body is different," Her hands traced the definition of his chest and arms.  "Is it sad," A smile broke through. "That I haven't noticed before now?" 

 _"No,"_ He shook his head, leaning down to kiss her.  "We've been busy.  You're different too," His fingers peeled away the black band holding up her shorts.  "And," A breath of reverence passed his lips.  "You take my breath away." 

Lithe arms drew him down to her. Over the moments, the keening urgency had given way to a leisureliness that left them content to explore one another while the lust simmered. For the time they were happy to simply be in the moment after so long apart.

“When I was a little girl,” She whispered into his hair, enjoying the feeling of him against her. “I was so afraid of storms.”

“Kathryn Janeway as a little girl,” He chuckled against her. “Now _that_ I’d have to see to believe.”

She laughed and hit his bicep. _“Hey!”_

“I’m kidding,” He smiled and kissed that beloved smirk. “Are you still afraid of storms?”

Loud thunder accompanied a brilliant flash of lightening that rattled the walls. But instead of jumping as she was accustomed to do, she remained still, her eyes trained on his as her fingers tangled in his hair. “No,” She said. “Not since you held me.”

Chakotay settled more fully against her between open legs, kissing her again as he slipped frictionlessly inside. “I’ll always hold you, Kathryn.”

“Always?”

“Yes," He promised. _"Always.”_


	119. Chapter 119

She could feel the subtle tension that laden the room, in the way he tossed and turned behind her and the subdued annoyance with which he rearranged the old feather pillow. “ _Out with it, Henry._ ”

“It’s nothing, Shannon,” He grumbled. “Go back to bed.”

“You know,” She tossed the thick covers off her shoulders and sat up. “ _This_ isn’t how I imaged spending this evening.” No.  Instead of a bitter row, she'd imagined lovemaking whose afterglow would be spend chatting over more pleasant matters.  

The hold in his shoulders let up as he turned his body to face her, _“Shan-“_

“You haven’t even _asked_ me how it was, you just _assumed_ -!“

“I didn’t _need_ to ask!” He interrupted. “I knew what the verdict was at the airport today.”

 _“Henry,”_ She said, moving closer to him, willing him to understand. “I’m not _going_ anywhere. I would have hoped after _fourteen years_ of marriage that you’d know me a little better!”

“I do know you, Shannon. And that’s why I’m worried. With the Millennium Gate, the work was _here_ , in Indiana. _This_ is different…”

“And you’re worried that _what,_ I’m going to leave you?” 

Henry gave a slight nod.  “I’m worried that you’re going to get carried away.“

“Don’t I have a right to? Don’t I have a _right_ to be excited about this?”

She was out of the bed before he could capture her. “Shannon, of course-“

“This is the biggest opportunity of my career, Henry!” She rubbed her tired eyes in frustration. “You know we’ve been having this argument from the moment we met!"

“Because the _same_ issue keeps coming up!”

“What issue?” She battled to keep her tone even and low. “The fact that I want more than _this?”_

 _“More than this?”_ 

“You know what I mean,” She shrugged him off, her arms coming up to gesture her passion. “I want more than this little town, _more_ than the Gate. I’ve wanted to be involved with this project since before I knew its name!”

They were at a standstill, glaring at one another from across the bed until he gave in, too tired to fight or tame her. So instead, he came around for his arms to envelope stiffened shoulders. “ _Shannon_ , you _know_ I’ll support you.“ His words were interrupted by huff that resonated against his chest. “Maybe a little _grudgingly_ sometimes. But I won’t hold you back-“

“You’ve never held me back Henry," She breathed in contrition.  "I’ve never felt that. And I know that we have two kids to consider, the bookstore, _our life here_. I’ll never ask you to leave Portage Creek.“

“I know,” He granted. “I just _know you_ , Shannon. I know what you’re like when you go all in.”

“I’m only working as a consultant,” She laughed. “You seem to think that I’m going to be packing my bags and moving to Washington.”

“No,” He sobered. “But that’s what you’ve always wanted.”

She was silent for a time, letting the truth of his words settle over her as she hugged his solid body against her own. “ _Yes_.”  He pulled away with the admission. Only, she didn’t let him go. “For a long time that’s what I wanted. I thought _that_ was the life that would make me happy, but then one day,” Her voice drew a smile he couldn’t see. “I happened upon this _tiny_ _excuse_ for a town and I met this _wonderful man-_ “

“ _Wonderful,_ huh?”

“Well,” She laughed. “More like stubborn and cantankerous…”

 _“Hey!”_ He pinched her.

“Ow!” Shannon jumped. _“Henry Janeway!”_ Not the next moment, she found herself being pushed back towards the bed. “ _Henry,_ we haven’t finished our conversation.”

“Oh well,” He smiled as her back hit the mattress. “ _I love you_ , Shannon.”

“I know,” Sinewy fingers traced familiar and beloved craggy features.

“And I want you to be happy. We all do.”

“Henry, I’m not _going anywhere.”_

“Okay,” He accepted as weathered fingers turned to trace the soft skin under her breast.

For a moment, she stayed his hand. “Before we reach the _point of no return_ -“

He smirked and bayed his movement. “Hmm?”

“Kathryn called and invited us all up to join her and Chakotay for the Indiana State Fair. I told her we’d love to come.”

“That’s right,” Henry nodded. “I forgot that was up in Arcadia. When?”

“Next weekend, before the kids go back to school.”

“Good,” Impatient fingers quickly remembered their previous intent. “Is that everything?”

“Uh huh,” His wife smirked as she lifted his nightshirt up over his head.

“Now,” he kissed the soft skin of her neck leading up to her lips. “About how _you wanted_ to spend the evening…”


	120. Chapter 120

The property felt empty and cold, somehow, despite the persistent late August heat.  If she tried hard enough, she could imagine them; their faces and the peevish smiles that stretched their lips wide when they got into trouble.   The heel of her sandals clicked and echoed on the pristine hardwood of the empty centre and for a lonely moment she could hear their giggles, their inane conversations.  She _missed_ them.

The only entity she could liken the feeling to to was walking through a desolate ship temporarily abandoned at space dock after a well-run mission.  For a moment, the image of her first walk through of Voyager played over in her mind.  She remembered she'd taken a shuttle from Headquarters to Utopia Planetia two weeks before she had set out to the Badlands.  The ship was all but abandoned, operating on a skeleton crew of twenty (none of whom would be accompanying her on the maiden voyage).  They grey bulkheads were subdued and the light from the consoles dimmed.  The heels of her leather boots echoed off the still floors, whose atomic stuffs were undisturbed by the engine thrum. Quite simply, her ship felt naked.  _Lonely._

Working alone, a passing technician gave her a nod and continued working as she happened upon the empty bridge.  In her mind’s eye, she saw what _would be:_  the hustle and beeping consoles accompanied by all the the banter and chatter.  Two long legs carried her down the four steps leading to the command deck and brought her directly in front of her command chair.  Its contours hugged her shape, albeit a little uncomfortably at first. This was _it_ , she thought. This is _everything_ I’ve been working towards.

For a moment she saw her father with his tempered features and the slight softness around his middle. She imagined he would smile at her, call her his Goldenbird, kiss her on the forehead, and promptly ask for a tour.  In response, she would quirk a coy grin and laugh, revelling in his pride before showing him every nook and cranny of these decks while quietly chatting about her operation.  She’d confide in him her apprehension for what its conclusion brought and relay her secret admiration for the rogue Maquis captain.  She would ask him if he thought Starfleet was doing the right thing and if she should even be doing this _at all._

In quiet moments over the years, she spoke to him and foolishly imagined that from far beyond the steely confines of death’s intractable hold he could hear her.  Maybe he could offer something in return. For a second she unconsciously conjured the Edward from her nightmares that nearly manipulated her into his base.  But she shoved him away, remembering he wasn’t her father and that she no longer wanted those lifeless eyes to taint his handsome retention. 

Alone in the building, her bottom met with the cool wood of the craft bench as she ran her fingers through the long auburn strands that fell over her shoulders.  _“Oh Daddy,_ ” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper into the cavernous room. _“I miss you so much.”_   And she did. _Terribly_.  _“What would you say if you could see me now?”_

 

* * *

 

_His hand touched her shoulder and she flinched away. “Katie.” _

_“What?” His young daughter sulked, sitting up against the strong solitary oak at the edge of the property._

_He let out an audible whimper as he scooted down the bark to sit next to the truculent redhead at its base.  “I’m getting old,” Edward smiled as his arm found purchase around her slight shoulders._

_“No you’re not!” Kathryn smirked, putting her arms around his knobby knees. “You’re not old, Daddy.”_

_“So, what’s wrong, Goldenbird?” He kissed strands of yellow and red. “Why are you sitting out here all alone?  Your mother told me you barely spoke to her or Phoebe when you came home.”_

_“I have a lot to think about.”_

_“Mmm,” He nodded. "Like?"_

_Almost petrified, she asked,“Daddy, what if I don’t get in?”_

_“To the Academy?” He offered rhetorically.  “Well, if you don’t get in, then you do something else. You find something else to make you happy.” _

_Tears borne out of exasperation and worry formed at the corners of her eyes.“Nothing else will make me happy!”_

_“Goldenbird,” Edward laughed at her melodrama.  “One day you’ll find that going to the Academy and being a Starfleet officer, maybe one day being a Captain-“_

_“Or an Admiral,” She offered hopefully._

_“Or an Admiral,” He chuckled at her enthusiasm.  “Isn’t what's going to make you happy.”_

_“But it makes you happy.”_

_“No,” Edward shook his head and rose slowly, ignoring the crunch in his knees as he pulled her up from the dirt.  “No, Katie, you make me happy; you, your mother and Phoebe. Not a job, not an organization, not even my title.  And one day you’ll find someone that makes you happy.”_

* * *

 

Her hand went around her swollen belly while she marvelled at how heavy she’d become.  “I bet you’d smile,” She chuckled to herself. “I wonder what you’d say if I told you I'd fallen in love with and  _married_ that Maquis I was sent to capture!” 

“I don’t think he would believe it,” She jumped at his voice, a smirk of embarrassment crinkling her eyes.

She gave a lopsided grin as he came to sit next to her. “Spying on me?” 

“No,” He sidled to her and kissed her cheek.  “I just got home and I wanted to see you.” 

“Miss me?” 

 _“Yes,”_ He laughed. “You were talking to your father.”

“Mm” Her smile subsided. “I used to talk to him all the time, but…” 

“It’s hard, sometimes.  And sometimes you just forget.”

She laid her elbows on the table and turned her eyes away from the bright sunlight.  “I was trying to imagine what he would say if he could see me now.”

“And what would he say?” Chakotay's hands coming up to rest on her abdomen as he traced small circles on the stretched skin. 

“I think he’d find it funny but _not_ surprising that I married that _Maquis rebel_ …” 

“The very _dashing_ Maquis Rebel,” Chakotay gave a goading glint. 

“Mmm,” Kathryn chuckled. “The very _humble_ Maquis Rebel.”

“Why not surprising?”  

"Because," She took a deep breath and let it out.  "I admired you, Chakotay.  Who you were, what you'd done."  

He raised his eyebrows at her words. _"Me?"_

"Yes," She told him, running her fingers through raven curls.  "You gave up everything for something you believed in.  I never had the courage to do anything like that." 

"Well," He gave her a lopsided grin.  "A lot of good it did us." 

"Don't say that," Kathryn whispered.  "I never would have met you if you hadn't." 

"You don't know that." 

"I would have married Mark," She said.  "And I never would have been a mother." 

 _"Kathryn,"_   His heart ached at her words.  "But you also wouldn't have been so far from the people you love."  

"Maybe," Kathryn granted.  "And one hundred and fifty good people never would have been stranded so far from home." 

"Yes," He replied.  "But then half of the would be dead or in a Cardassian prison being tortured in ways that we can't even imagine."  

"I know," A hint of a smile peeked through.  "I suppose it's all about silver linings."  

"I suppose," He laughed.  

"I wish you could have met my father."  

“He wouldn’t have thought I was good enough for you,” Chakotay's hand came up to tuck a stray golden strand behind her ear.  “ _And_ he would have been right.” 

“That’s not true,” She whispered. “You’re a good man, Chakotay. _The very best_.”

He smiled gratefully and tangled their fingers together as the sun set over the lake. She remembered the brevity of the days when they had first come here.  December’s light was abstemious, only lending her radiance for meagre morning hours before revoking it completely and shrouding the afternoon in a hazy winter gloom. But the sun of the summer month's was generous, only setting when she absolutely had to.  But now that too was changing as they descended into the autumn months.  “It’s getting darker earlier now.” 

“I was just thinking the same thing.” 

Blinding yellow had given way to tangerine orange, bringing out the red in her hair. “I’m still not used to it.” 

He brought their joined hands up on the table and leaned his chin on them while his other hand busied itself with the long strands of her hair. “Me neither.”   

“Why do I have a feeling this a fantasy you’ve harboured for a long time?” 

“What?” He laughed.

“My hair.”  

“Because you’re perceptive,” He contracted with a wry grin.  “And the _one_ time I got to do it, I had to _couch_ it in a shoulder rub.” 

The memory brought laughter as she turned her back to him, giving him the hint.  “That doesn’t sound so bad right about now. _Oh,_ ”  An audible groan let forth as his hands came up to knotted shoulders.  “You know, it all seems so far away now."

"What does?"

"Our life on Voyager, the people, the first contacts.  Sometimes I have to ask myself if it was real.”

“It was real,” Steady fingers moved up to her neck and she fell against him, caught up in euphoria. “Incongruous with the life we live, but real.” 

“Does it bother you?” She asked the question vaguely as she turned back to him. 

“No,” He shook his head but reneged and changed his answer.  “It only bothers me that there’s so much left unanswered and so many goodbyes left unsaid.” 

“Me too,” She nodded, swinging her legs around the bench albeit with difficulty.  “We’d better get home.”   

He smiled at sight of Kathryn Janeway, once Captain of the Intrepid Voyager now amusedly handicapped by her baby belly. 

“What are you smiling at?” 

“Nothing,” He beamed when her hand wriggled into his as they walked out of the empty centre.  “I just never thought I’d see you like this.” 

 _“Me neither,_ ” She remembered a woman who indulged selfish moments looking in the mirror after a shower. And when the robe fell away she was faced with a lonely flat expanse. 

His arm pulled her closer to his side. “This is how I saw us.”

“I know,” She reached up and kissed the underside of his jaw as they sauntered back to the cabin. “But we couldn’t have done this out there, Chakotay.  It wouldn’t have worked.”

“But it would have been fun trying.”

“Could you imagine? Me nine months pregnant and crawling through the Jeffries tubes to help B’Elanna?!” 

“No,” He shook his head, laughing with her at the image it conjured.  “But I would have loved to have seen it.”  

She reached again to kiss the deep dimple on his left cheek. "I know." 

He'd _intended_ to get the boxes out of the truck.  He'd _intended_ to start packaging up their meagre set of belongings.  He'd _intended_ to use the afternoon for something other than making love. But somehow, despite his best intentions, he'd backed them up into the bedroom as he peeled her top off and unfastened the band around her shorts. _“It can wait...”_

 _"What?"_ She muffled against his lips. 

" _Everything."_

 


	121. Chapter 121

_“Jan,”_ The older woman could hear the glare in her voice before she saw it. 

“Hmm?”  

 _“Jan,_ ” She admonished a second time, scanning the contents laid out on the counter unable to do anything but stare.  “We can’t possibly accept all of this! You’ve given us furniture, dishes, bed lin-”  

 _“Kathryn.”_ At this point the chatter was giving her a headache. 

“What?”  

“Hold your tongue, and help me unpack the rest of these plates,” For a moment she let on that she was serious before turning to the flabbergasted woman next to her and quirking a grin. “I’m serious, Kathryn. You’re making my _head ache!_ ”

 _“I_... _ah_ -” She fumbled; no one had spoken to her so frankly in _years_.  Not even Chakotay.  “Okay...” 

Jan laughed and grabbed lithe shoulders.  “Would you _relax_? You’re doing Gregg and I a favour! All this has been sitting in storage for the past twenty years! What’re we going to do with it?” 

Her peevish squint asked the question doubly. “You’re sure?” 

 _“Yes,”_ Her voice cragged.  “Now, for the _last time_ , tell me: where do you want to put all of this?” 

* * *

 

 _“So you’re just leaving?”  She forced an even tone, a rare feat in her case.  But he stayed silent, choosing instead to divert his thready attention to the slabs of wood on the workbench.  “Well?”_

_“Yes.” The game was accustomed for both of them and they played it on and off. He would pretend to ignore her outbursts and passionate persuasions while she would walk away from his._

_“So, what?  You just don’t care anymore?”_

_With an unexpected force he threw down the easel and listened to it clatter loudly on the concrete.  “What the hell do you want?”_

_“I want you to be honest , Chakotay!” _

_“Honest?” He sneered with arms raised in war towards the heavens. “I am honest!”_

_“Those people are nothing to us!  You want to become one of them? The same people who have walked away from us, our pleas! You think they’re going to make you happy?”_

_He clenched his fists; short nails dug into the calloused skin of his palms and nearly drew blood. _“Well it’s a hell of a lot better than this!”__

_Familiar russet eyes bore into his own in challenge, waiting for him to back down. But he wasn’t to be pushed, and he’d heard the arguments already – dozens of times from his father, his uncles, the elders, and not a hundred from his sister. And they were always the same. “I can’t anymore, c’inca…”_ _She smiled at his caress of her nickname as an uncommon gust swept across the arid landscape, rustling barren trees and parched climber. “This isn’t the life that I want…”_

_“She won’t ask you to stay.”_

_“I know,” He nodded, the image of his mother dancing in his mind. “She wants me to be happy.”_

_“We all do,” despite the sweat and the dirt matted to his body, she embraced him, memorising the familiar shape of him. Her brother, her best friend. “We all want you to be happy, At'e.”_

_Her hair was soft against his chin as he held her close. “I’m not unhap-“_

_“All you do is brood, Chakotay!  And all you can talk about is your Starfleet.  So go,” She breathed, giving his body one last squeeze before pulling away. “But don’t be surprised if you don’t find happiness there.” _

_“I won’t be happy here, Sister.  I can’t be.”_

_“I know, Chakotay,” She braced two arms behind her and pulled her body up onto his workbench careful to avoid the knives and splinters. “You’re a contrary! Born feet-first, In'a knows that! It’s why she won’t ask you to stay. Sometimes, I think she knows something we don’t.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“She thinks you’re going to change things…”_

_“What things?” He regarded her, his eyes squinting painfully to avoid the bright afternoon sun. “She never shares her visions…”_

_“She never said,” The girl shrugged.  “But I think it’s why she won’t argue with you.”_

_“And what do you think?”_

_“What do I think?” She blew a raven strand out of her eyes and jumped off her perch. “I think I shouldn’t have told you that!”_

_“And why not?”_

_“Because now not only will you be contrary, but even more smug!” She giggled as he tried to catch her as she ran.  “I’ll race you down to the river!  Or has all that study made you forget where it is?”_

* * *

 

Chakotay looked down and regarded the slabs of wood that he’d cut, sanded, and moulded into their constituents. He wanted to make something different this time in a challenge to himself.  He’d never made a crib before.  A cradle, yes, that was simple, but a crib, it was something different.  He’d researched it on the rare days he woke before Kathryn, or on the odd night when she’d gone to sleep before him. The hours he spent on it were selfishly his alone.  They were his time to think, to _remember._

Splintered wood against his palms.  The dependable thrum of the blade and the way it cut so accurately. Every facet reminded him in some way of a piece of his life.  Most of what he knew his father had taught him.  And he had been a good teacher, patient and persistent.  It was just a shame that Chakotay had shunned most of that good counsel and chosen instead to regard it as pestering inconvenience rather than loving service.

 _“Chakotay?”_   Gregg’s voice echoed in the dilapidated garage.

“In here,” The younger man called back. 

“I just came to pick up Jan,” Gregg bent to admire the carved shapes that would soon come together to form the crib. “I see you’ve been busy.  Just where do you find the damn time!" 

“Here and there. So,” He laughed.  “Have they killed each other yet?” 

 _“Nearly,”_ Gregg guffawed, remembering the site of the two women nearly coming to blows over cabinet arrangements. “They’re kibitzing over where to put the coffee mugs. When I went in Jan was trying to finagle Kathryn down from the kitchen chair.”

Chakotay rolled his eyes, trying his best not to wince at the image of his very pregnant wife climbing onto a kitchen chair.  “Why…?”

“Hanging pots.” 

 _“Ah,_ ” Chakotay nodded in understanding.  Kathryn was Kathryn.  And like a wild bronco, she could never be tamed no matter what her physical circumstance.  

“Were you and the boys able to get the bed okay?”   

“Yeah,” He yawned. “No major problems except when Joey banged his finger against the door jamb…”

 _“Ouch!”_ Gregg winced. “Is he okay?” 

“Fine. He put some ice on it.”

“Good.  So…?”

“You sound like Jan,” Chakotay winked.  

“I suppose I do!” Gregg huffed. “Pretty soon Kathryn’s going to start tugging on her earlobe!”  

Chakotay blushed, his hand coming up to tug on his ear before he caught himself.  “I _hope_ not!  So what were you going to ask me?” 

“Ask? Nothing," Gregg smiled.  "I was just about to suggest that we go rescue our wives from each other’s wrath.” 

“It can’t be _that_ bad,” Chakotay chuckled, as they sauntered over to the house proper where even from the outside, he could make out tones of his wife’s command voice, which was impressively shrouded by Jan’s even higher pitched tone.  _“Oh_ ,” He grimaced, looking toward his friend.  “I see what you mean…” 


	122. Chapter 122

Soft rain bleat down on the old windows, the sound of the droplets serenely rebounding off of bare walls in the near-empty room.  Two figures lay tanged on the room’s only stuff, a lonely carved bed.  His hands are so large that they neatly envelop one round breast, and she fits against his side, almost as though there was an indentation made just for her. 

“This is Heaven,” He smiled against her breasts, the velvet skin there lovingly wetted by kisses, his worship. “Can we stay here all day?” 

“No,” She laughed and bent her neck to kiss his hair.  “We’re meeting Shannon and her family at eleven for the fair.” 

“Oh, that’s right. Good thing we still have,” He took her arm and examined the small timepiece on it.  “Five hours.” 

“You’re _insatiable_ , Chakotay.” 

“Me?”  He snorted incredulously.  “Was _I_ the one waking up at-“

 _“Uh!_ ” Her hand cut the air in a familiar gesture.  “I didn’t see, hear, or _feel_ you complaining!” 

“You never will,” He raised up on one arm over her to kiss the lazy grin that pulled at her lips. “You’ll _never_ hear me complain about making love to you, Kathryn.”  

“I’ll never stop _wanting_ to,” She kissed him again, enjoying the comfortably accustomed feel of his skin against hers. "Not after wanting this for so long." 

Chakotay smiled and kissed her forehead before returning to his preferred configuration with his head on her chest and one hand tracing patterns on her full belly.  “Mmm,” He laughed.  “Now, looking back I have to say that I’m impressed with your _restraint!”_

“Why?” She chuckled, her chest undulating in amusement.  “I can control myself. I did _quite well_ for six years!” 

“That was _before_ we had sex.”

“Are you saying that if we’d had sex-“ 

“I’m saying that if we’d made love on New Earth, we never would have gone back to being _just friends_.” 

“We were never _just friends_ , Chakotay,” her fingers momentarily halted their movements against his scalp.  “From the day we met, we were never just friends.  But, I've always wanted to know: _when_ did you fall in love with me?” 

“When did I fall in love with you?” 

"Can't remember?" She chuckled.  

“I think I’ve always been in love with you, Kathryn," He told her plainly.  

“Is that why you trusted me?” She whispered. “Even though you knew I’d been sent to capture you.” 

_"Yes."_

She remembered the angry man on her bridge.  She remembered no fear, even walking up to him knowing he could hurt her easily if he so deigned. “I felt the same about you.”  

“I _remember_ ,” He chuckled. “Walking right up to me even though I’d a phaser out at the ready, set to kill.” 

“Well to be honest,” She looked down, a poorly concealed flush staining her cheeks.  “I was a little _distracted…”_

“Oh?” He settled onto his side as one finger found its way to her chin and reoriented her regard to meet his. _“By?”_  

 Cool fingers traced the warmth of his lips. _“These.”_

He laughed outright, the deep hollows of his cheeks proudly indented.  “I _thought_ I’d caught you staring.”

“Mm, _more_ than once," She laughed, shrugging her shoulders and looking away again, nearly ashamed of truths, she’d never have indulged a year ago. 

“And with me?” 

"And with you what?" 

"When did you fall in love with me?" He asked her.  

“Well, I always knew there was an attraction between us. But I hastened to call it love.  Not while I was brokenly clinging to some sort of fealty to Mark.  _But,_ ” Kathryn remembered.  “It wasn’t long into our journey, _before_ New Earth, when I found myself at the recycler one night with his framed holoimage in my hand.” She smiled sweetly and laid their joined fingers over her belly.  “Does it ever bother you, Chakotay?” 

“Does what bother me, Kathryn?” 

“That this baby will never know who her parents are.” 

Chakotay closed his eyes and thought on the question.  _“No,”_ He responded plainly.  “Because, Kathryn, we aren’t our titles or our accomplishments.  We simply are – Kathryn and Chakotay.  And our child,” He promised, kissing her soundly before moving down to her belly. “This child will _know_ who we _are_. She'll know that _I_ love _you_ , and that _she_ is _loved.”_


	123. Chapter 123

_“Rachel!”_   Liz caught up with her friend who was, at the moment, covered from head to toe in all array of hay and dust.

“Liz!” The young girl saw her friend with a tall, lanky boy behind her.  “Hey, Brian!” 

“Has your dad got you working the pig stand?”  Liz laughed. 

“Yup,” Rachel shrugged, dusting off her jeans and old T-shirt.  “Sometimes it _sucks_ when you’re dad’s a farmer. _But, w_ e’ve already sold four pigs, and it looks like we might be in the running for a blue ribbon this year with Ernie.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Brian gawked at the corpulent heifer in its solitary cage.  _“He’s huge!”_

“Have you seen anyone else from school?”  Liz asked.

“Rishon and Alex came by just a little while ago, and Megan just went to get some lemonade.”

Liz scrunched her lip, itching to get out of the cool pens and back into the sunlight.  “Do you think your dad’s gonna let you enjoy the fair later on? We’ll wait to go on the rides with you!” 

“Yeah, once we get-” Something caught Rachel’s attention out the corner of her eye.  “ _Hey,_ is that Coach?”  She pointed. 

Liz craned her neck.“Where?” 

“There,” Brian gestured. “Wait – isn’t that-?”

Liz’s mouth dropped open when she saw the woman walking beside him with her hand in his.  “I didn’t know his wife was _pregnant!”_

“Oh my god!” Rachel gushed as she wiped off her hands.  “Are they not like the _cutest_ couple?”

“Ugh,” Liz prattled, gently slapping Brian on the side.  _“ **So** cute!_ Don’t you think, Bri?”  

 _“Girls…”_ Brian rolled his eyes. “Hey Coach!” 

Chakotay pulled at his wife’s hand. “Did you hear that?” 

“Over there,” She pointed to the three teens clangoring towards them.  

“Hey, Coach,” Rachel blushed, smiling at Kathryn. 

“Brian, Liz, Rach,” He greeted. “Are you enjoying the fair?”

“You _totally_ didn’t tell us your wife was pregnant!” Liz joshed.  

“Yeah!” Rachel laughed. “Congratulations, by the way, Kathryn.”

“Thank you, Rachel,” Kathryn smiled warmly at the young woman as she held her hand over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.  _“So,_ ” She turned part way to her husband.  “You _didn’t_ tell them?”  Her voice was lighthearted, poorly concealing her amusement. 

“Well…” He squirmed, pulling at his earlobe. “I…well…”   

“In the hot seat, Coach?” Brian laughed.  “Sorry, we didn’t _mean_ to get you in trouble.” 

“Oh thanks,” Chakotay winked at the teen, unable to shroud is delight.  

“So,” Rachel changed the topic. “Is this your first Indiana State Fair?”

“Well,” Kathryn told her. “It is for him.  But I can remember going to _plenty_ of these when I was growing up. Are you working the fair, Rachel?”  

“I am,” The girl nodded proudly. “My dad’s a farmer.  He raises cattle and pigs.  Most of his business is commercial and he works with mostly restaurants,“ She explained. “But we have our own little farm on the side and every year we get to show off a little.”

“So what are you going for this year?”  

“Well, we’re going for first in cross-bred, and we’re _hoping_ for Lucy to be considered for runner-up in Maines… But we’ll have to see.” 

“Well then,” Kathryn was touched by the young girl’s enthusiasm, remembering Naomi’s when she’d brandished her model of Ktaris at Voyager’s mini Science Fair.  “And what you about you Liz, Brian, any aspirations in husbandry?” 

Liz laughed outright. “Goodness _no!_   We just came here to enjoy the rides and the food!”

 _“Rachel!”_ A mellow voice called from inside the barn.

“That’s my dad,” Rachel waved to him. “Brian, Liz, come by in an hour and we’ll check out the rides!” 

 _“Okay! Text me if anything changes!”_ Liz called after her friend. 

“Well, Coach,” Brian said. “Enjoy the fair.  Dad’s around here somewhere.  Mom’s probably trying to pry him away from the fried Oreo stand!”

“Mm,” Liz tugged at her brother’s shirtsleeve. “That does sound **amazing** – _Oh_!” She pointed.  “I see Rishon and Megan.   _We’ll catch you later, Coach!”_

 _“Enjoy you two!”_ Chakotay hollered at the two teens while waving at other contingent of his students.

“Well,” Kathryn pulled at his hand. “You _certainly_ have _a lot_ of admirers, _Coach.”_  

“Aren’t we meeting Shannon and Henry here soon?”  He tried to divert the conversation, his mirth not nearly tamped. 

“Soon,” Kathryn pulled him towards a large oak, whose shade was welcoming in the face of the summer’s stern heat.  Her feet were aching despite the brevity of her upright foray.  “Oh I _can’t wait_ ‘till this baby’s born,” She croaked as she guided herself down onto a spot of soft grass.  “It seems like forever since I’ve seen my feet!”  He sat down next to her, one hand automatically coming up to kneed her sore shoulders.  _“Oh,”_  She closed her eyes and let her head drop forward.  _“Thank you.”_

“I’ve never been _anywhere_ like this,” He looked around at the merry hullaballoo that carried on around them. There was music melded with jingles from rides all coalesced with laughter and the rhapsodic squealing of children. “Once something similar on _Anaris Prime,_ but never so much, or so many…" 

 _“Smells?”_   She volunteered, unable to keep the smirk out of her voice.  

“Yes.  Kathryn what _is_ that smell?”

“Livestock, Chakotay,” She had nearly forgotten that he'd nary been around herd animals in his life." 

“It’s…” He sampled the air again. “ _Well…_ well you know, it’s an _acquired_ smell…” 

She couldn’t help but guffaw at his poorly concealed distaste for the organic odour. _“Oh, Chakotay!”_  

“What?” He laughed. 

“Nothing,” She looked up and caught his kind eyes before letting her body fall against his. “ _You_ make me happy.”

He smiled contentedly and kissed her hair, thanking whichever Spirits or deities that were listening for this woman, for allowing him to be loved by her.  

 _“Oh,”_ She pointed in amongst the crowd.  “There’s Shannon. Help me up.” 

“You’re like a little planet,” He teased, pulling her up amid her groan. 

“I certainly feel like it!”  

 _“Kathryn!”_   

“Shannon!”  Kathryn met the older woman halfway.  “It’s good to see you." 

“You as well! And you, Chakotay,” She hugged him warmly in greeting.  “It seems you two have been busy!”

“Have we ever!” The young woman kept a hand on the swell of her belly, remembering the maelstrom of the last few weeks.   

“Where are Henry and the kids?” Chakotay asked. 

“They got caught up,” She glanced behind her, grimacing slightly.  “At the _fried_ Oreo line…”  

“Just _what is_ a fried Oreo?” Chakotay asked, hoping the question wouldn’t highlight his lingering sense of cultural naiveté.  

Shannon had to strangle a guffaw. “It’s what’s _wrong_ with this country!"   

“Well hello,” A familiar baritone sounded from behind the trio. 

“Henry,” Kathryn turned and smiled amiably. “Aoiffe, Caleb.”

“Hi!” Aoiffe sang through a messy bite of the sugared confection in her hands.

“Kathryn, you’re _glowing,_ ” Henry hugged her and shook Chakotay’s hand. 

"Glowing I don't know about," Kathryn laughed.  "Sweating maybe!" 

"No," Henry argued.  "Definitely glowing." 

“Hi,” Caleb wiped his hands, trying in vain to get all the sugar off of them.  “It’s good to see you two again.”

“You as well,” Chakotay responded warmly.

 _“Aoif,”_ Shannon lowered her sunglasses to glare at her youngest. “You’re going to be sick if you eat all that.”

“That’s what you _always_ say, mom.” 

“And I’m usually right,” She grabbed her daughter around the shoulders as the six of them started walking onto the fairground proper.  

Caleb took another bite of the treat in his hands. “Mom, relax.” 

Shannon rolled her eyes and turned to Kathryn.  “Are you sure you don’t want mine, too?”   

“The more the merrier!” Chakotay bantered.  

“Is it too late to throw one of them back, Shan?”  Henry asked in sarcasm. “I think we should have stuck to Jason!” 

 _“Dad!”_   Aoiffe whined, hitting his arm. 

“Oh,” Shannon preened, looking to her side at the woman next to her.  “But seeing you _does_ make me want another one!” 

“Ugh, mom, _stop!_ ” Her son winced, drawing a another huff of amusement from her.  

 _“Now...”_ Henry stopped and fished in the back pocket of has shorts for his wallet.  “I have an idea. Why don’t _you two_ take off, go on some rides and enjoy the day and leave us _boring old people_ to wander and talk?”  

“Are you going to give us money?” Aoiffe asked hopefully.

“Forty bucks?” 

“Excellent,” Caleb pocketed the cash before he and his sister veered off towards the sequestered amusement park.  _“We’ll see you later!”_

 _“Text me and let me know what you’re doing and where you are!”_ Henry bellowed in their wake.  _“And be safe and-!_ Oh…”   

“Good job, Henry,” Shannon laughed. “I think we’ve sent them off to the wolves!”

“Oh well,” He shrugged. “At least Caleb is with her.” 

“Mmm, but at least now we can have a relaxing time catching up.  So, you three,” Shannon pointed towards a white tent not far in the distance.  “If my intuition serves me correctly, that looks like an air conditioned tent.  How about we catch up over a cold drink and lunch?”

Kathryn’s arm came up in a familiar gesture, a smile of relief tugging at her.  “Lead the way.”   


	124. Chapter 124

_“Oohh,”_ Kathryn leveraged her weight against the table, taking the pressure off her feet in piecemeal while she basked in the cold air blasting from the vent.

“I remember my last few months with Aoiffe” Shannon recalled the treasured memory.  “I couldn’t stay standing for more than twenty minutes, _at most!”_

“Well it’s only recently,” Kathryn harkened.  “I’ve been so busy with the camp and the kids that I’ve hardly noticed it! _That a_ nd moving.“ 

“Goodness!” Shannon crowed. “You two really have been busy! Now tell me, how was the camp?  I’d meant to ask you about it." 

“Busy,” Kathryn explained.   “Different from anything I’d done before.  And certainly nothing I’d ever envisioned myself doing!  _But,”_ She remembered fondly.  “There was such a tenderness to it, and a patience that grew on me.”

“It does seem surprising that you of all people were running a camp,” Henry smiled.  

“That’s what I said at the start,” Kathryn gave a familiar crooked grin and changed the subject.  “Now, you said over email that you had some fairly big news?” 

“I do,” The older woman beamed. “After you and Chakotay left our office all those months ago, things _finally_ started changing.”  A pit settled in Kathryn’s stomach.  “Do you remember, Jerry told you about our work with NASA?" 

“Yes,” Chakotay goaded as he settled, more like _braced_ , himself into the chair. 

“Well,” Shannon folded her hands. “A few weeks ago, Jerry was contacted again by the team in Washington, said they had a proposal to make.”

Kathryn’s mouth was starting to parch. “What _type_ of proposal?” 

“Well, our team, you remember: Ted, Jerry, Jacqui, Martin..?” 

“Mmm." Kathryn encouraged.  

“Well the group of us went to DC and...” A wide grin spread across her face.  “ _The Mars Missions_ , Kathryn! NASA’s come back on, and the whole programme is better, _refreshed,_ more integrated!“ Shannon’s voice brimmed with excitement as she regarded her two friends.  “They’ve asked us to come and work with them. _Solely_ as consultants on what would look to be a part time basis, but still I’ve waited _my whole career_ for this!” 

 _“The Mars Missions_ ,” Kathryn processed while her previously disappointing excavation into the Janeway clan’s family history fomented to the forepart of her mind. 

Shannon’s name _wasn’t_ attached to the Mar Missions, allegedly, from the snippets they’d found on the Ferengi database.  Her association was nothing more than lore; simply a gilded contrivance. But then _how_ , she wondered, did that fable _ever begin?_  

“That’s wonderful, Shannon,” Chakotay smiled. 

 _“Yes,”_ Kathryn reoriented herself. “Congratulations, Shannon.”

“Thank you.  But, we couldn’t have done it without either of you or your input.  And we, the team that is, we wanted to thank you again, but also to offer you some compensation, _something_  and see if perhaps you’d like to do some more consulting. You two are obviously highly qualified and we-"

 _“No,”_ Kathryn simpered quietly. If she was honest with herself, she would have admitted that the offer was a little too tempting. The chance to see history, touch it, be _a part_ of it.  It was something that had always appealed to her vanity, more her desire to be part of something significant.  Kathryn wasn’t naïve where history was concerned; she wasn’t a neophyte to temporal mechanics. Rather, she was more than well-versed, practically a veteran after her dabbles with Henry Starling, Captain Braxton and the Relativity...  She knew the dangers of changing history, of interfering.  “We’re happy to help in any way we can, but not in an official capacity. That isn't our life anymore.”

“I know,” Shannon nodded her head in shammed understanding.  “But would you at least consider it?”

 “We’ll consider it.  But-“

“We’re not making any promises,” Chakotay finished warmly 

“Well,” Shannon turned her shoulder. “It’s a start!”  

* * *

 “Oh,” Shannon pushed her plate away from her, depositing the chintzy gingham napkin next to it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been _so full_ in my life!”

“Same,” Henry hiccupped. “But that was good.”

“Agreed.” 

“What did your parents do, Kathryn?” Henry leaned back, his voice languid after the meal as his arm curled around the back of his wife’s chair.  “Were they engineers like yourself?” 

“No. My mother was a teacher, and my father,” Her voice trailed. “Was in the military.”

“What type of teacher?” Shannon’s eyes crinkled as she remembered her own mother who had been a teacher.  

 “Math,” Kathryn replied softly, remembering Gretchen.  

“My mother was an English teacher,” Shannon told her.  “And a little disappointed that I didn’t end up sharing her love for the classics.  But just my luck,” she turned to her husband.  “That I ended up marrying someone who did.” 

“She must have been _floored_ when she met Henry,” Chakotay suggested. 

“My parents died before we were married,” Her hand found its way under the table to rest on Henry’s knee.  “But yes, they would have approved.” 

“I’m sorry,” Chakotay offered. “Kathryn and I know the feeling.”

“Peas in a pod, then,” Henry smiled. “It’s a shame that the kids don’t have grandparents, people to learn from. But, all things considered, I think we’re doing okay.” 

“Which reminds me,” Shannon dug in her purse to produce her phone.  “I wonder if Aoiffe and Caleb have texted us to tell what kind of trouble they’re getting into.” Her fingers played over the crystal screen before she shrugged and levied, “Mmm, _nope!”_

“No surprise there!” Henry laughed. “We recently relented and bought the kids iPhones for Christmas, thinking it would encourage them to stay in touch with us when they went out with their friends-“

“Well,” Shannon interrupted. “That’s not entirely true. To be honest, we just got tired of the begging!” 

“Shannon and I have always struggled with giving the kids technology.  We live in such a _techie_ world, and most of the time I fear that children's natural born creativity is being stifled! I can remember when I was growing up, in order to entertain myself I only had the outdoors, tinker toys, and books! But kids these days! Parents just shove an iPad in their hands and they shut their minds off, playing with games, this and that!”   Shannon ran her hand along his back, smiling at her husband’s paroxysm for preserving the past.  It was a facet of his behaviour that would never change and she’d learned to love him for it.“I’m sorry,” He shrugged. “I tend to get carried away.” 

“He’s gotten better over the years.”

“You have a point, though,” Chakotay reflected on his own childhood; though being a product of the technologically advanced age, he always found himself an outlier.  His time on Dorvan, when juxtaposed to his years on Earth, was largely technologically celibate. Before coming to the Academy, he’d had little exposure to holodeck and replicator technology, finding other ways to spend his time, either with outdoor exploration, manual labour, or woodworking.  For most of his life he’d resented his family for living such a mechanically chaste existence. When he was a boy, he’d yearned for modern conveniences like replicators rather than stoves; holodecks rather than outdoor games.  But as youth passed away and gave way to tempered seniority, he finally grasped how much that existence behooved him.

Kathryn, on the other hand had always deigned herself a child of the twenty fourth century. Unlike her husband, she’d been immersed in technology since a young age. And the entity had fascinated, no more like captivated, her.  “I can see both sides,” Kathryn reflected.  “On one hand you can’t isolate your children.  Technology is an evolving body with one part building on the next. It’s empiric _. But_ , you're right: that kind of stimulation – the idealistic _reality_ that it presents-“

“It’s addicting!” Henry pushed. “Shannon and I can understand that Aoiffe and Caleb need to be versed in modern day tools and equipment if they’re going to go out in the world and be successful, _but…”_

“I think what we’re getting at is that we didn’t want them to be exposed at too young of an age. We wanted their minds to blossom,” Shannon explained. “Separate from any saccharine influence. That was a bit of Henry’s influence. If I’d married anyone else maybe the kids would have had iPads in their strollers!” 

“It’s just something to keep in mind,” Henry shrugged.  “The world has changed so much from when I was growing up.  For so long I was reluctant to embrace that change, and,” He leered at his wife.  “Most of those passé conceptions were a little _archaic.  B_ ut I still hold that our children, though they need to be savvy with technology, still need to be originally creative and able to use their minds without the artificial medium.”

“And I don’t think technology, or the _progression_ of it is presenting a hindrance to that,” Kathryn persuaded. “But still _you are_ correct. There is a balance that has to be maintained.” 

“Agreed,” Chakotay granted, folding a fallen strand behind her ear.  “I think my wife is getting tired.”

“ _Your wife_ ,” Kathryn squinted, a grin not quenched at his protectiveness. “Is _just fine._ ” 

"What do you three say to seeing the rest of the fair?" Henry chuckled.  "Maybe catch the Glass Barn exhibit?"  

“Maybe spot the kids!” Shannon nodded. “And then we’ll let you two go. _Kathryn,_ don’t push yourself.  If you’re tired-“

“I’m fine!”  Kathryn gently pushed aside her protectiveness.  “Absolutely fine,” Her hand found Chakotay’s as she fought gravity to get out of the seat.  “Now, about those _fried Oreos…”_


	125. Chapter 125

_“Left,”_ She nudged his arm before he took the wrong turn.  “You’re still so used to going back to the camp.” 

“I know.  I think I’ve done every day this week!” 

She yawned and turned down the windows,  “I love this smell. Always have.”

To him the air smelled the same, albeit fresher now that they’d driven a hearty distance away from the fair ground.  “Which smell is that?”

“Fall.”

He turned his head only slightly to regard her out the corner of his eye, “You can _smell_ fall?”

“Mmm,” Happily she inhaled another gust of choppy air as the car turned down the driveway.  “I know I said it before, but I’m still not used this darkness so early!” 

“Not _too_ early,” He volunteered. “Not at four in the afternoon like it did this winter.”

“We’ll get there soon enough,” Kathryn yawned again as the truck came to a rolling halt. In tried form, a band crickets started their brassy nocturnal ballad. It had always engrossed her: how such tiny creatures could make such a loud sound; how when thousands of them joined together they fashioned a sonorous refrain.  For too long she’d forgotten that sound; she'd forgotten _so many_ things. “So, what did you think of the fair?” 

“It was,” He turned his hand back and forth. “A... _different_ experience.  And it certainly appealed to my interest in anthropology.” 

“Spoken with the tact of Tuvok,” Kathryn rigoured in laughter.  “You _hated_ it!” 

 _“I did not!_ ” He defended, catching himself in her laughter.  “No I liked it.”

 “You don’t _have to_ like it, Chakotay. It’s not everyone’s idea of an enjoyably time.” 

“No, I did enjoy it. I enjoyed spending the day with you and your family, Kathryn.  Shannon…” He conjured the image of the small woman in his mind as he met her eyes. “You’re _so much like her…”_

“History forgets people,” She whispered.  “Forgets details, faces – stories.”

“It’s bothering you isn’t it? Almost two years ago I remember how sad you were when you’d found out that Shannon wasn’t who you’d always imagined her to be.  And you’d reconciled with that, but now-“

“Now, I don’t know.” She breathed into the calm before silence temporarily resumed its incursion. “What have we done, Chakotay?” 

“Who’s to say we _did_ anything?” 

“Oh, _Chakotay_ ,” She breathed pedantically. “We _know better_ than this. What we did was foolish and short sighted.”

“We can’t change _any_ of that, Kathryn. What’s done is done.”

“But history’s changing, Chakotay.” She’s scoured the news whenever she had a chance in the recent months and week – looking, searching for familiar events.  There weren’t any. “The missile standoff,” She listed. “The ill-fated armistice between Russia and China... None of it’s happened!”

“I know,” He’d read the same news, anticipated the same events only to miss their fruition – to have other more benign occurrences transpire in their place.  “And I don’t have any answers...”

“Neither do I” Her tone was nettled as she opened the car door to let in more of the cool evening air. 

“Do you think we’ll ever know?” He wondered out loud as he hopped down from the truck’s height.   

She scowled as he caught her arm and helped her down. “I’m _not crippled_ , Chakotay. But thank you.”  

“Mmm,” He only dared to breathe when both her feet were planted solidly on the soft grass.  

"There’s so much that’s unanswered. And too much has happened to make me believe that our being here is pure chance, _solely_ the _random_ loss of a shuttle to a spatial anomaly.  But _will we ever know_?”  Shoulder came up and dropped in a careless shrug.  “Maybe not.”  

“We seem to go over this every few months.”  

“Maybe it’s because we’re scientists,” She postulated, fumbling in the warm darkness for the keys missing somewhere in the purse draped across her shoulder.  “It’s our very nature to question until we find resolution.”

 _“You're_  the scientist.”  

Her own cheeks ached with the grin that tugged on them when she felt his hands sweep up under her shirt. “Do you want to know what  _I think_?” 

The near total blackness of the house shrouded his tender movements. Her universe became his voice, tender hands, the lingering sweetness on his breath, and the way his soft hair felt against her cheek. “What do you think?” The words whispered in a warm current that danced across her neck, raising the tiny hairs there.  

She inhaled sharply when his lips tugged at her favourite spot under her ear. _"I think..."_

_“Hmm?”_

She pushed at his shoulders, angling him to where she would have been able to see him in the light.  _“I think_  that as much as you try and deny it, that _you_ , Chakotay, are _more_ of a scientist than you let on.” 

“An anthropologist,” He corrected as his fingers deftly found and pulled at the elasticated band holding her shorts up.  “A _different_ kind of science.”

_“No…”_

He imagined that beloved, exasperated grin before he traced its outlines with his tongue as groan reverberated from the back of her throat and he swallowed it in one of his own.  _“Kath-“_

 _“Shh,”_  She laughed, pushing again at his shoulders.  _“Bed.”_

He laughed at the audacity of the suggestion before it crossed his lips, “Would _up against the wall_ be too _bold_ a suggestion?”

Before his last syllable left his lips Kathryn dissolved into a fit of laughter.  “Too _bold_?” She strained for oxygen amid the fit wracking her small body.  “Too _impossible_ would be more like it!" 

His arms pinned against the wall, holding her while they laughed against one another.  “Couldn’t hurt to make the suggestion.”  

“Hurt? Can you imagine? You’d throw out your back," She listed the sequence of events. "Then we’d have to call Gregg, and though I _don’t think_ he’d be _surprised…_ ”

He nodded in amused understanding. “Bed?” 

“Mmm,” She took his hand as they ascended the staircase in darkness.  “I counted thirteen steps.”

“We could just put the light on.”  

 _“That,”_ She smiled when her foot hit the upstairs landing.   “My dear man, would be _too easy.”_

“Kathryn Janeway and _easy_ , like oil and water.” 

“Would you stop!” She sniggered, hitting his arm as they wandered into their bedroom.  “I still can’t believe that this is our house.”  Her feet carried her over to the window looking out over the backyard, to the clearing beyond it.  Relinquishing his shirt onto a heap at the end of the bed, he came up behind her, hands once again thieving under the light silk top, a favourite gift from Jan.  “We could make a garden, out back there,” He pointed.  “The whole field is ours.”   

“What would we grow?” She raised her arms as the top slid up over her shoulders. 

He smiled at his bare skin touching hers while his arms wrapped around her middle, feeling the subtle movements of the life that lay sleeping.  “Tomatoes.”

Her hands joined his, smiling at the memory of her garden on New Earth.  “She’s hyper today.”   

“I’ll never get tired of this.” 

 _“Me neither.”_ Her words copied the duality of their predicament.  “I love you, you know." 

“I know,” He nodded, laying a kiss to her forehead while her fingers fumbled with the catch on his khaki shorts before they fell in a pool at his feet before they fell onto the bed.     

“This isn’t getting any easier,” She braced her hands on his chest underneath her. "Making love, I mean." 

“We’ll have to get more creative.” 

 _“Me_ on _top_ _isn’t_ creative.” 

He laughed and admired the long hair around her shoulders falling down around her breasts, and the pieces in her eyes. “No. But certainly still fun.” 

“Mmm,” she quirked an eyebrow and met his gaze in the hazy evening light. 

His hands on her hips guided her movement as she rose and fell.  _“Kathryn,_ ” He gritted his teeth while his toes curled at the pleasure. 

 _“Chakotay,”_ The syllables of his name came out brokenly.  Sweat pooled on her chest, her stomach tightened at the awareness of impending release before her whole body went rigid, spasming in gratification.   

They held one another, breathing the same air, indulging in small touches while the euphoria receded. _“Well,”_ He laughed once he’d caught his breath.  “Creative or not, we certainly do _that_ well…”

“Mm. You know,” She nodded against his shoulder before propping herself over him again and angling to capture his lips with hers.  “Creativity is _overrated.”_


	126. Chapter 126

Not the first time since she touched it, it struck her how accustomed the soil felt under her fingertips. Reliably, it caked around her nails, seeped in around her cuticles and buried itself in the shallow indentations that drew her palms.  The smell was more organic, sulphurous - _permeable_.   It felt so long ago now, practically surreal, when she thought back to a time when this same smell made her grind her teeth in a keening frustration and resentfulness.

* * *

 

_“Kath-ryn!”_

_Everything that Gretchen Janeway did had a purpose.  Every note in her voice sang a different mood, a passing doldrum.  Kathryn had perceived, ever since she was a little girl, that she could practically tune out just about every syllable her mother intoned, focusing in solely on the timbre of her voice and be just as perceptive to the command as she would have otherwise.  Today she was frustrated; her pitch had risen while she enunciated the syllables through every feasible expression._

_“Mom?”_

_“Kath-ryn,” There, she did it again as her voice carried closer down the corridor to the bedroom.  “We’re leaving in twenty minutes and you’re still up in your room!  Are you even packed?”_

_“Yeah,” Kathryn rolled her eyes and looked down at the meagre rucksack at the end of her bed.  Her enthusiasm for these trips had always been barely insubstantial when compared to her abject loathing for them.   Every year she’d made a supplication to her parents to let her stay home, even go somewhere else… but every year, dependably, it was always the same response: no._

_It was important, Gretchen belaboured, to be out in nature – to make time to connect with their roots; to see the outdoors, what little was left of it, maybe the last of it.  Gretchen had such a love for the earth, for the soil.  She even smiled wholeheartedly at the sun on her face, the wind in her hair, piquant dirt under her feet._ _Phoebe loved it too.  She always seemed to be taking cerebral snapshots, pictures: inspiration for her paintings, obtuse sculptures.  Her chest expanded on the cool air of the Indiana trails.  She said she felt lighter, newer, as her feet wandered off the cut soil tracks and bathed in tall grass, shrouding her like the girl from a picture._

_Edward was no different.  His gregarity was fomented by the outdoors; for all his lip service to the technological zeitgeist, at heart he was a pioneer: an enterpriser fashioned to push a rickety wagon over rolling plains, unbothered by the dirt and dust, only singularly enthralled by surrounding beauty._

_“Kathryn,” Gretchen crossed her arms over her chest, her look pointed. “I’m serious.  Get ready to go. We’re leaving in ten minutes…”_

_A sullen faced young woman swivelled in her chair.  “I don’t understand why I have to go.”_

_“We’ve been over this,” Her tone changed from aggravated exasperation to focused intensity as she bent over at the foot of the bed and foisted the sack onto the unmade mess.  “I know you hate camping trips, but this is the last time Phoebe and I are going to see you and spend time with you before school starts in two weeks…”_

_“I see you all the time,” Kathryn mumbled, the guilt starting to sink in and take root._

_“But,” Gretchen’s frown turned a beguiling smile as she zipped the bag and wandered over to her taciturn little girl.  “We’re going to miss you…”_

_Her mother’s warm arms stole around her neck while a kiss found its wet way onto her cheek.  “Mom!” She laughed, unable despite great effort to hold onto her petulance. “Eww, okay I’ll be down in ten minutes!”_

* * *

 

Kathryn chuckled at the forgotten memory.  She could never stay angry with her mother. Gretchen was too ebullient, too cajolingly manipulative with her mien.  The remembrance of her always encouraged images of Jan and of how alike they were.  Like Gretchen, Jan could turn her mood in a moment.  For how hard, and for how long, had it been for Chakotay to do the same? Valiantly, he’d tried for seven years to coax her.  And to his credit, he did most of the time.  But it was never so easy. She recalled the time after her father had died and how hard it was for anyone to reach her.  Phoebe tried, and so had her mother. Both had been ardent in their fervour. But Kathryn was just as doggedly stubborn in her grief as she was in everything else, and dissuasion (no matter how earnest) was often a familiarly extraneous conception. 

A crumpled plastic bag rustled finely in the slight wind that murmured over the field.  From the corner of her eye, she perceived it trying to glide away and catch flight in the meagre breeze.  How similar she had been at one point; how familiar a concept that innate nature not so many years ago.  At one point, she had resented this very dirt whose fragrance and texture she now relished.  She’d given credit to the land as her home, but her heart was never here.  At least it wasn’t until it was taken away.  And for six and a half years on the ship, _this dirt_ was all she longed for. 

When she let herself sleep, the dreams always brought her here.  They were variations on a theme, but the concept was continually unremitting. Sometimes she came alone to an obscure open field.  The grass was tall, dry, and it rustled loudly in the plain breeze. Most of the time, however, the reverie took her here, to this perspective where soil was all she saw. And it was always so real; the smell of earth, the sound of stagnation, unremitting heat.  She’d been self aware, but unable to perceive her body. The only sensation was a feeling of heaviness, which she now acutely recognised as gravidity.

Unlike her nightmares, the dream was restorative.  The palpation of the soil was real. Just as real as anything she felt in the waking world. And no one had gone there; not the aliens from the dream world; not Naomi’s Pitcher plant. She never understood why she woke, though reconditioned, with a pit in her stomach and a block in her throat. The first time she’d had the dream she was only a teenager eager to start at the Academy.   The feeling of bulk was foreign for a lithe teenager. And why she dreamed of dirt and not stars was bewildering, though not confounding. Over and over again, she brushed it off as meaningless. But as time progressed, the vision kept recurring with the sensations becoming more and more tangible until one night she’d woken from a sound sleep with the feeling of the soil so palpable that she’d checked her hands for dirt.   

 

She remembered the night clearly. It was during their second year in the Delta Quadrant, while Kes was still with them.  The little Ocampan could perpetually be found in one of three places – the mess hall, Sickbay, or the cargo bay.  Early on they had converted the space.  Though grey bulkheads remained grey, they were not _as dull_ with the inception of Kes’ garden (her legacy on the ship). She had treasured that plot and given it a new life.  On Kathryn’s rounds about the ship, she had always saved the cargo bay for last.  The space soothed her as Kes’ spirit had blessed it with an unmistakable tranquility that saturated her as soon the cargo bay’s doors hissed open.  And on that night she had gone in search of that very stillness.

* * *

 

 _Clothed only in nightclothes and a robe, she was grateful that no one was in the corridor_.  _But her concern wasn’t modesty, only seclusion. It was late, or early, depending on one’s vantage point, and she didn’t expect anyone to be awake, not even the pixie Ocampan.  But nevertheless, there she was._

_“Good evening, Captain,” Her voice waltzed a familiar smile as the unexpected intrusion brought her out from behind the bushy lettuce crop._

_“Kes, I didn’t expect you here so late.”_

_"I come here when I can’t sleep.  Apparently,” Her blue eyes glinted.  “So do you.”_

_“This is the first time,” Kathryn effaced, her eyes looking on the space in a familiar wonder._

_“You had a dream,” It wasn’t a question, merely an observation._

_“Yes.”_

_“Something you want to share?”_

_Kathryn rubbed her tired eyes, secondarily weighing the pros and cons of the divulsion. But she was tired and ultimately relented to her desire for resolution rather than decorum and formality.   “I’ve had this dream since I was only a girl,” Her fingers traced along the rows of plants, some of which she recognised, but most she didn’t.  “Sometimes the seasons change, sometimes not…”_

_“Where is your dream, Captain?”  The warm voice was accompanied by the peculiar hiss of the water mister._

_“Indiana.”_

_“Home.”_

_“Yes. And I feel…” Her mind had trouble spitting out the word. “Heavy.”_

_“Pregnant?” The utterance of the taboo word jolted Kathryn._

_“I don’t know,” A tingle rushed down her spine. “Maybe.”_

_“Is that what you want, Captain?”  It was a simple question meriting a yes or no answer.  But somehow it was so difficult to formulate a response._

_“I-” Kathryn thought on her words.  Kes would know if she was lying.  Besides Chakotay, no one on this ship knew her so intuitively.  And sometimes even he wasn’t as acute as Kes. “Well Mark and I- we…”_

_“Is that something you want?”_

_Even her stalling stalled.  And so without any pretense, she told the truth.  “Yes.”  In response to the question, the answer felt foreign._ _Mark had asked her the same thing not a year ago.  And her response had been an adamant “ **no**.” He hadn’t pushed because he himself had been of the same barren persuasion; they had decided together that children didn’t factor into their ambitious paradigm. _

 _“The Commander loves these flowers,” Kes smiled knowingly as she walked over to where Kathryn had unconsciously stopped, where she now stood idly touching a bustling bush of peace roses.  “He’s often here tending to them, pruning their stems, watering them…”_

_Kathryn hadn’t realised where she was standing, or that she’d even stopped walking and was touching anything at all.  Unwittingly, she blushed at the Ocampan’s words while trying to imagine Chakotay with flowers.  The daintily oxymoronic image brought an unconscious grin.  Chakotay was such a study in paradigms; a bellicose warrior with the gentle, passionate soul of a romantic._

_Her attraction to the dark man was an entity she found increasingly disconcerting.  After all, she was supposed to be in love with the greying philosopher. But when she thought of that man she felt nothing.  When she laid in bed at night, desperate for release, his face – his hand– wasn’t the one she conjured.  His name wasn’t stifled into her pillow as wetness rushed over her fingertips, sweat collecting over her brow while praying that raven-haired warrior couldn’t hear her through the bulkhead. _ _“Oh,” Was all she could dumbly manage as she quickly pulled her hands away._

_“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”  Kes goaded. But the captain wasn’t paying attention, perhaps because she wasn’t here. “I think he’s saving them for someone.”_

_Kathryn looked up suddenly, her eyes wide at the implication. “I should go.”_

_“Why?” Kes turned her head and smiled.  “Being in love isn’t something to be ashamed of, Captain.”_

_“I-I-“ she was fumbling, a bright red flush finding its way up her neck as she tried to cover for her confoundedness.  “Kes, please, I-“_

_The girl’s smile widened sympathetically.  “I won’t tell.” She promised in earnest while bending down to uncover a bag of soil and an extra few pots.  “Here,” A small hand motioned.  “Help me plant the tomatos.  Maybe it’ll help you sleep.”_

* * *

A noise from the house woke her from her reverie.  _“Kathryn!”_  

 _“Jan?”_ Utterly perplexed, she turned around to see the older woman motioning from the house. _“Jan!”_   What _on earth_ was she doing in the house?  She hadn’t heard anyone… “What are you doing here?”  

 _“Never mind that!”_ Jan laughed. _“Come inside, or do you need help getting up?”_

“No!” Kathryn clapped the dirt off her hands, trying hard to hide the amused scowl that twisted her sun-kissed features while she battled gravity with curiosity. “Just give me a few years, I’ll get there!”


	127. Chapter 127

_“Jan?”_ Kathryn’s voice forced over the last step up to the patio.  

“ _Took you long enough!_ ” The smile sang in Jan’s voice as she opened the screen door to let the younger woman inside. “I _swear to God_ , Kathryn, you look like you’re going to pop!”

The belly was nearly an armrest at this point as she lumbered awkwardly, holding her back trying the bay the pressure in her lower spine. “Well, I certainly feel it!” 

“A November birthday.  You know she’s going to hound you doubly for Christmas gifts every year.”

“Mm,” Kathryn never considered the thought.  “Jan?”

Jan cautiously, almost _suspiciously_ , slowed her gait as they approached the next room.“Uh huh?”

“What are you doing here?” She rubbed her eyes, still confused as to Jan’s presence and not a little tired from her foray under the Indian summer’s hot sun. “I thought you were at wor-"

_“SURPRISE!”_

A year ago she might have been primed for an intrusion like this, but at the moment she thought her heart had stopped while her stomach precipitously migrated south.  A foreign spectacle to her eyes in this setting; most of their friends had populated the space of her living room. Her hands came up over her mouth as she looked at the wrapped gifts heaped on the hewn coffee table while bunches of flowers and plates of food adorned the corners of the room.  

Tears collected automatically at the corners of her eyes, her mind in the midst of the confusion unable to process anything but disbelief as she caught Chakotay’s grin. _“Oh...!"_ Half a dozen smiling eyes chuckled at her astonishment, her uncharacteristic loss for words. _“What?”_ Was all she could mouth as she turned to Jan, whose own eyes watered in tandem. 

“A _baby shower_ , Kathryn.” Jan explained gently, her arm folding around Kathryn’s small shoulders.  

“A-?“ Kathryn again turned to her friends before peering down and wiping her aberrant tears. _“I,”_ A pointed regard from the man in the corner told her to simply accept the kindness rather than trying to pass it of as she was accustomed to do. “Thank you.  This is… this is unexpected and beautiful.”  

“No need to thank us,” Ann came out from the crowd and embraced her as much as she could. “Congratulations, Kathryn.”  

"Thank you," Kathryn cragged. “The flowers are your doing, aren’t they?” 

“Mine actually,” Jan lightly swatted her arm before she kissed her cheek. 

“We brought the food,” Ann laughed. “And Ginny brought the cupcakes.”

 _“Oh?”_ Kathryn sauntered over to her Mike’s wife.  “Now I really feel special; _these cupcakes_ are state-renown!”

“Blue prize winner three years in a row,” Ginny reminded her with a lighthearted grin, trying to feign pride but falling short.  "Congratulations, Kathryn. We're all very excited to meet this little one." 

"Thank you," Kathryn wiped away the wetness from her cheeks.  "This is all too much." 

"It's not," Ginny gave her a look.  "I've been battling Chakotay away from the cupcake platter for the past hour." 

“I’ve only had two,” He gave an laughed argument.  “You know I’ve never said no to sweets.”

“His _weakness_ ,” She assured the group.

“Not the only one,” He promised suggestively, making Kathryn balk. 

 _“Chakotay!”_   She turned and swatted his arm.  

 _“Clearly,”_ Ann placed a gentle hand on Kathryn’s belly. 

“You two are _dangerous_ together! How did you pull all of this off? I was only out back and I didn’t hear any of you come in!” 

“Planning and _stealth_ ,” Mike explained pointedly with the flute of his beer bottle. 

“Mmm,” Gregg agreed. “Jan’s been planning this for months!” 

“ _Only_ since we found out she was pregnant!” Jan countered, shaking her head. 

“ _That long_?” Kathryn balked. 

“Well,” Jan turned her hand back and forth.  “Just about. I’ve always wanted to throw a baby shower, and now seemed as good a time as any!”

“Chakotay has assured us the baby is a girl,” Ginny began.

“She _is!”_ He assured, laughingly emphatic.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just have Grace confirm that, you two!” Gregg shook his head, shoulders shaking in amusement at the strange idiosyncrasies of the couple.

“My intuition has never led me astray,” His bold avowal met with a skeptical look from his wife. _“Well,_ ” He conceded, her countenance reminding him of the dozens of times in the past when it had.   “Almost…” 

“Mmm,” Kathryn laughed, turning back to the crowd.  “You were saying, Ginny?” 

“We tried for gender neutral onesies and blankets, but…” An inured giddiness seeped through her words.  “Well we left the receipts in the bag just in case…”

“To be honest,” Ann crooked her jaw guiltily.  “We got a _little_ carried away!”    

“Well, thank you. To be honest, I- _we_ haven’t even gone shopping yet.”  She glanced back at Chakotay.  “We’ve both been so busy…”  The truth was that it hadn’t occurred to her. She harkened back to her previous life back on the ship, even on Earth, when shopping, bar markets for handmade goods, was nearly an obsolete concept. And if she were birthing this child in the twenty fourth century, she would have relied on replicators for clothing, accessories.  And though thoroughly habituated to this life, occasional lapses were still obviously apparent. 

“You need to stop thanking us,” Jan corrected.  “This was _our pleasure_ , Kathryn.  After everything you two have done for us, this is our way to say thank you.” 

“Yeah," Mike added. "We hardly remember what it was like without you two! And I don’t think I’ve ever been so busy, or the kids so happy at school.  Well, all the kids from what we hear!” 

“Mmm,” Ginny agreed. “Brian and Liz and _all_ their friends, _all_ the parents - everyone is so grateful, Chakotay.”

For a second his eyes shut in appreciation at their kind words while Kathryn’s hand found his and squeezed his fingers meaningfully. 

“You two gave us our first start,” Andrew spoke up.  “Ann and I’ve made three more contracts with local businesses. Even a start-up organic eatery in Bloomington! And it's all because of the chance you gave us with the camp this summer.” 

“It’s a great company too,” Ann jumped in.  “They take men and women on parole from the county prison and give them a job, a place to stay while they get back on their feet and stay out of trouble while they rebuild their lives…”  

“Well _we’re_ the ones who are thankful,” Kathryn said.  “We came here with _nothing_ and now a year later, to have all of you to call our family is more than would could ever have asked for.”

“I don’t have to say how much I love you, Kathryn,” Jan's arm stole around Kathryn's shoulder.  “Or you, Chakotay.  But I do. _Very much_. Not a day goes by where I’m not so thankful for the two of you, for how you came into our lives, however _unconventional._ And you’re going to be wonderful parents," She promised. "You have too much love between the two of you to be anything but.”

“Damn straight!” Mike inserted with his usual endearing brashness as he raised his bottle. The small crowd clanged their glasses in agreement before the women busied themselves with the gifts.

Ginny, waved her arm to Kathryn as Ann ushered her to the couch. _"Well?"_   

Kathryn laughed and took a seat on the soft sofa.  “It’s the best part,” Jan foisted a large box onto her lap, not giving her a chance to place an objection. 

“Jan,” Kathryn examined the intricately wrapped parcel in front of her, and for a moment that self doubt reared its ugly head.  “Ginny, Ann… I, we can't-“

“ _Kathryn!_ ” They rolled their eyes in unison, cutting off the dependably forming self-effacing diatribe.  “Just open the damn gifts,” Jan lovingly scolded.  “Because you’re not getting up from that chair until you do.”

Just like her own mother’s sternness, Jan's was just as severe.  As was that glare.  And being one to recognise, _albeit grudgingly_ , a lost cause, Kathryn relented with a brisk smile and let enjoyment, rather than discredit, sink into the moment as her fingers came up to the tape on the side of the grandiose box. “Yes, Ma’am.” 


	128. Chapter 128

The suds had long since dissipated with the heat, leaving a tepid pool incandescently dotted with saponified remnants; the tributes of what was once a sumptuous bubble bath. His legs were bent, arms restricted, and the porcelain was digging uncomfortably into his lower back. But here he’d stayed for the last hour and a half.  And rather than dwelling on the aches, he’d fallen asleep time and she had followed suit.   Stretched thin, the meniscus barely covered her belly, even with her slouched as low as the confines of the tub would allow.  _“You know…”_ A wrinkled finger trailed wetly along the arm holding her waist.    

 _“Hmm?”_ His mind had shut off, much like the feeling in his legs and arms. 

“I can’t help but think that the tub you built me on New Earth might have been a little better suited for this.” 

He huffed wetly against her shoulder. “I did have that in mind.”

“Somehow I knew you were going to say that.” 

“I’ll build another one,” Chakotay promised, his hand moving noisily out from under the rapidly cooling water to stroke over her abdomen. 

“Do you know what Jan was telling me the other day?” 

 “No. What?” 

 “She was telling me that at the hospital they have an option where you can give birth in _a tub_.” 

“Like a bathtub?”

"Like a bathtub," She confirmed.  

He’d never heard anything so outlandish.“Like  _this_?” 

“Uh huh,” This amusement bubbled over producing a laugh.  “Can you _believe_ it?” 

“No,” He smirked. “Is that what you talked about with Grace when I stepped out?” 

She laughed, "I’m considering it.”

“It sounds like they created a whole new way of giving birth just for you.”

“Can you imagine?”

“I still can’t believe it,” He told her.  "How would that even work?"

"I don't know," She shook her head.  "But it sounds interesting."   

"Mm," He took a deep breath and let it out.  "It does." His limbs were getting heavy again, tired. 

"Are you falling asleep on me again?" 

"No," He lied with a yawn.  

"Liar," She turned and kissed the underside of his sharp jaw.  "Thank you for yesterday." 

"It was Jan's idea," He yawned again.  "But you're welcome." 

"I never had friends like this," Kathryn remembered loose associations and a reluctance in her youth to get close to anyone.  "People that would do something like that." 

"They're good people," Chakotay's leg was starting to cramp and go to sleep.  "Kathryn, I have to get up. I'm getting a Charlie horse." 

"Oh," She moved away as he hoisted himself out of the water before following in his stead. "Just as well.  It's getting cold."  

 _"Hey,"_ He caught her arms as she hoisted one leg over the edge of the tub.  

She rested her weight on him as she moved out of the water, "Thank you." 

"You know I just might keep you like this?" He chuckled, wrapping a towel around her.  

"Like what?" 

"This," His hands found purchase on either side of her belly.  

That brought a laugh.  "Well at the rate we go, I don't think that'll be too much of a problem." 

"No," He chuckled, kissing lips he couldn't resist.  "I suppose not." 

"I'm excited to meet her," Hungry eyes looked at her appraisingly as she towelled the moisture off her body.  "See what she looks like."

"I am too," She caught those eyes and impatient feet carried her the step to him.  "I think she'll look like you. _Brown eyes_ ," Her lips met his.  " _Black hair."_  

" _Crooked nose,"_ He laughed against kiss-wetted lips before he felt the towel around his waist fall to the ground, revealing what came so naturally in response to her.  

"A kind heart," She smiled crookedly and followed him into the bedroom and onto soft, rumpled sheets.  

"A contrary nature."  

"That _doesn't mean_ anything," She told him.  "If anything she'll be  _stubborn."_

A soft breast fitted comfortably in his hand.  "I want her to be like you, Kathryn."

 _"Why?"_ She whispered.  

"Because," His eyes crinkled with all the love he had for her.  "I love every single thing about you."  

His adamancy brought a wistful smile to her lips as she cradled the sharpness of his cheek in her palm.  "What did I do to deserve you?"   

His only response was to kiss her again and let the passion take them where it always did.  "I love you," She when she felt him move inside of her.   

"I know," He smiled. _"Now,"_ There was that cheeky grin.

"Now?" 

"Now, shall we try for  _slow and romantic?"_

"Well," She tangled her fingers in his hair and brought him down to her.  "You know what they say?" 

"No," He breathed.  _"What do they say?"_

 _"_ If at first you don't succeed," A roll of her hips brought a gasp of pleasure.  

"Try, try again?" He offered. 

 _"Mm,"_ She nodded with eyes closed in rapture.  " _Now_ you're catching on." 

 


	129. Chapter 129

“Jan?” Kathryn held up the outlandishly marked box, turning it over in her hands, trying to decipher why the older woman had bought the item in question. 

Jan looked up from the shopping bags on the floor.  _“Hmm?”_   

“What _is_ this?” 

“Oh that?” Jan laughed.  “Haven’t you heard of Tofurky?” 

“ _Tofurky_?” Kathryn’s voice sang with amused incredulity. It sounded akin to something morbid; an item the Klingons would have feasted on live.  

 Jan handed her the milk to be put in the fridge. “You’ve never heard of Tofurky?” 

“No,” the younger woman smirked.  “It sounds _awful.”_  

“Well, I’ve passed it every year in the health food store and now I finally have an excuse to try it!” 

Kathryn picked the box back up, trying to discern the long list of ingredients.  “So what is it exactly?”  

“A tofu turkey,” Jan’s strained voice accompanied the crunch of her bony knees as she got up off the kitchen floor. _“Oh,_ Kathryn,” She cradled the joints in question. “Don’t get old!”

“Too late,” Kathryn demurred, still engrossed by the freezing package.  “So what do you do with this?”  

“Other than cook it, your guess is as good as mine. What does the box say?” 

“Heat oven to three hundred and fifty degrees-“  

“No, further down…” Jan slipped the glasses around her neck far down on her nose.  “We’ll need an onion…”

“Why on _earth_ did you get this?” Kathryn interrupted her. 

“For Chakotay,” She rebuffed, taking the lourdy box and shoving it in the freezer drawer. “Poor man won’t have anything to eat on Thanksgiving other than vegetables and pie if not for the Tofurky!” 

 _“Oh, Jan!_ ” Kathryn was precipitously on the verge of tears, gulping for air amid the rigours that wracked her frame.

“What?” The older woman smiled slyly. 

“Nothing,” She wiped her eyes.  “That’s just very thoughtful of you.” 

“Do you think he’ll eat it?”

“I think he’ll be intrigued,” Kathryn cleared her throat, shoulders still juddering with hilarity.  “Thank you, Jan.  That was very sweet of you.” 

“Mmm,” Jan smiled peevishly, shrugging her shoulders.  “To be honest, I’m a little enthralled myself. I’ve always wanted to know what this stuff tastes like…”  

Kathryn trailed her finger along the counter, coming to stop at the murkily half full French press, “god, that looks good.”

“Three more weeks,” Jan snatched the carafe away from her.  “So your penchant for coffee has returned?” 

“Devilishly,” Kathryn rubbed tired eyes as she savoured the piquant odour as Jan poured the brown colostrum down the disposal.  “I’d give my right arm for a cup!” 

Jan moved to the cabinet, alluringly offering up a clear canister full of the coffee in question. “We could make a pot of decaf?” 

“ _Decaf_?” The word rolled distastefully off her tongue.  “I don’t think so. I’ll wait for the real thing.  You know, in all my years of drinking coffee, I don’t know that I’ve ever been so desperate that I’ve capitulated to decaf.” 

“Mmm,” Jan nodded in agreement, replacing the never-touched canister back to the stygian isolation from where it came.  “I think they kill the beans when they decaffeinate them.”

 _“Massacre_ is more like it.”  

“So,” the cabinet shut loudly as Jan turned back to the island, reaching up for a pot.  “You’ve been suspiciously silent on the subject of names…” 

“Names,” Kathryn leaned forward against the cool marble of the island as she massaged the back of her neck.  “We have a few in mind.” 

 “Oh?”  Her friend goaded.  “Are you going to tell?” 

Kathryn shook her head.  “None of them are very good.  I’ve always liked Tabitha, but Chakotay,” She laughed.  “Jan, you _should_ have seen his face when I suggested it!” 

“Like Tabitha from Bewitched?” 

“Be-what?”  

“You’ve never seen Bewitched?” 

“No,” Kathryn’s voice choked as she awkwardly manoeuvred the cumbersome baby belly, angling herself down from the stool. 

“Oh, well,” Jan carried the heavy pot, setting it down loudly on the stove.  “Pasta all right for this evening?” 

 _“Jan,_ you _don’t have_ to cook us dinner,” Kathryn scolded, a tiny grin lighting her face at her friend’s never ending kindness.  

“ _Kathryn_ ,” Jan peered at her over the rim of her reading glasses.  “Are you going to go home and make dinner?” 

“Well,” She shrugged, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.  “No.” 

“All right then. So, is pasta okay?” 

“Pasta is fine,” Kathryn’s voice was brandy soft, ridden with amusement as she made her way over to the centre of the room.   “Do you need any help?” 

 _“No,”_ Sn arm came out to halt her movement.  “Sit right back down, Kathryn.  I’m afraid if you move that baby will pop right out!” 

“Jan, I’m perfectly _fine_.”

“Well let’s keep it that way, hmm?”  Jan spoke into the fridge, haphazardly throwing ingredients onto the counter. 

“Fine,” Kathryn knew her mother well enough to know Jan, and had known Jan long enough not to argue as she pulled herself back up into the stool.  _“So.”_

“You sound like me,” Jan said while her hands set to cutting the onion in front of her.  “So, tell me.”  

“Tell you what.”  

“Gregg and I were thinking about running the Turkey Trot this year.”    

“Oh?” 

“You think we can’t do it?”  Jan challenged lightly as she laid down the knife in histrionic defeat. 

“I didn’t say anything!”  Kathryn laughed. "Not. a. thing."  

“We’re not _that_ old.”

“Jan, I didn’t _say_ anything!” 

“Hmm, well,”  A laugh bubbled up from the back of her throat as she angled her shoulders defiantly.  “We’ll show you.”

“Just don’t _sprain_ anything,” Kathryn jabbed. 

“You’ll pay for that,” She sneered, brandishing the cutting knife theatrically.  “So tell me, what do you usually do for Thanksgiving?” 

* * *

 

_Over the years, Neelix had tried his hand at the holiday.  She remembered his trite enthusiasm for the event and how avidly he’d researched it down to the last detail.  It hadn’t helped that Tom had been his accomplice and had lent the necessaries to garishly decorate the mess hall in his usual fashion._ _Every year his décor, even the itinerary, became more and more involved.  “It’s the holiday season, Captain!” He’d bubbled when her eyes had almost popped out of their sockets._

_She looked around, aghast at the decorative turkeys dangling from the ceiling, the over-the-top table centrepieces… _“It, uh, certainly is…”__

_“Now,” Neelix held up two gaudy looking items in both hands; one an interpretation of a hat, and the other some sort of feathered halo.  “You can either be a pilgrim, or,” He effervesced. “An Indian.”  _

* * *

“Well,” Kathryn contrived.  “Not much...”

“That’s a shame,” Jan was only half paying attention as she moved to throw the onions into the hot pan, creating a delicious sizzle accompanying an odour that undulated and filled the whole house.  “What about when you were growing up? I remember,” she smiled, lost in her own memories.  “When I was a little girl, Thanksgiving was my favourite holiday…  More than Christmas, if you can believe it! My mother would make this big turkey,” she motioned with her hands, indicating the grandiosity of the event.  “A rack of lamb, and even a ham.  Oh God, Kathryn there was so much food!  You’d have to have been there to see it.  But every year, it was always the same.  And _boy_ did I enjoy it!  Did your mother do anything like that?”  

* * *

 

_“Phoebe,” Gretchen looked over at her youngest.  “Is Kathryn up yet?”_

_“She was,” Phoebe shrugged, uncaring.  “I think she went back to bed.”_

_“Well, dinner’s almost ready.  Will you get her?”_

_“She’s not going to eat mom.”_

_“I know,” Gretchen sighed, baying the weight off her chest (the onerous elephant of her own loss) as she lifted the bird out of the old fashioned oven onto the counter.  “But it’s Thanksgiving and I don’t want her to miss it.”_

* * *

 

“She did,” Kathryn remembered acutely.  “She always made it special, but…”

Jan noticed the sadness in her voice, the far off look in her eyes that was so poignantly Kathryn. “I always miss my mother around this time of the year. It’s _all right_ to miss the people we love, Kathryn.” 

“I know,” Kathryn looked down, nodding as she squelched precious memories that she’d not resurrected in years.  “The holidays have never been easy.” 

“They aren’t for anyone!” Jan smiled at the overly ironic nature of her admission.  “But somehow that never forces away the excitement people have for them.”

Kathryn remembered even her own crew’s excitement for this time of the year. "Yes. I know."  The holidays were harder on that crew than anyone, she thought.  Each and every one of them missed someone dearly.  And she herself no exception.  But dependably, each year as if like clock work, there they were in the mess hall eating terrible food, laughing, and enjoying themselves and the family they’d found in one another. Looking back, she wished she’d better seen that; that she had been more present and appreciative.  But too often she isolated herself, shut away from people who cared for her and craved her attention and company if only she had seen enough beyond her own self imposed despondency to give it.  

Jan squeezed her hand, lending a gentle regard with her poignant green eyes. “What are you thinking about, Kathryn?”  

“I was thinking about…” She stopped, catching a smile.  “I was thinking that maybe it’s time to make new holiday traditions.”  


	130. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *blushing with head in hands* thank you all for being so kind and leaving kudos. Wow, I never expected people to like this story so much and it's so humbling. Thank you so, so, so very much for all of your kindness! I just hope that you'll continue to like the story and bear with me even in my sluggishness in getting up new chapters!

“You missed a spot.”

Chakotay turned his head sideways, not seeing her point of contention. “Where?” 

 _“There.”_  

His eyes carefully followed her finger’s trajectory as he moved his body and turned his neck again to see the mar.  “Oh,” it was something he never would have noticed. Well, bar Kathryn Janeway. “Goodness, Kathryn,” Chakotay smirked as he filled it in with his paintbrush.  

“What?”   

“Nothing,” He laughed, all but ignoring her as he resumed his painting. 

 _“No_. Tell me.” 

“You’re _wheedling_ again,” He looked back at her, pointing the paint-laden brush.  “I just never noticed how much of a perfectionist you are." 

“I am not!” 

“One has to wonder,” He hummed. “How you _became_ that way…”

“Maybe I was born this way,” Her lips pursed into a contemptuously amused scowl.

 _“That,_ ” He let his head fall forward in amusement. “I don’t doubt.”  

“My mother was a perfectionist.” Kathryn remembered neatly placed knick knacks, straight edges on the made bed, sharply folded towels. “It used to drive my father _crazy!”_

The smell of the paint was making him light headed.“Mathematicians usually are.”

“My father always used to tease her about it,” She laughed.  “And Phoebe. She drove Gretchen half out of her mind with her messes!”

“Oh,” He glinted in understanding. “So that’s where you get it.”

“Get what?”

“Your penchant for making a mess.”    

 _“Chakotay!”_ She tried and failed to stifle a laugh as she threw a dirty rag at his back. 

 _“Hey!”_ He pulled the dirty cloth off his back. “You’ll pay for that.”

“I don’t make messes,” She squared her shoulders into the hard back of the chair.  “I make piles, and I know where everything is.”

 _“Except_ when you need it…”  

* * *

 

_“What is all of this, Kathryn?”  He was at his wits end looking at the mess on her desk.  Padds occupied every corner along with a heaping mass of coffee cups – some empty, others half full, but always two somewhat warm._

_She looked up from the padd in her hand, taking a sip from one of the many alloy mugs. _“What?”__

_“This,” He waved his hand around to indicate the pandemonium._

_“Oh,” She gave him a look before resuming her work._

_Tentatively he collected a mismatched group and began to move them off the side. _“Can I move some of these?”__

_“No!” She stayed his hand and replaced the items to their previous location. “It’s my method.”_

_“But you can’t find anything in here!”  He argued.  “I can’t even see the desk!”_

_“Here,” her finger pointed to an inactivated padd. “Is Ensign Roberts’ report on the stellar phenomena that we passed last week in the Ergos system. But, I wanted to read it with Seven’s astrometrics report on the dimensional radius of the stellar cluster we found-“_

_“Okay, okay,” He nodded, a headache beginning to form as he got up and moved to the couch.  “I’ll just work over here.”_

* * *

 

“Like I’ve told you _many times,_ Chakotay. I have a system.”

“Mmm,” He nodded before they relapsed into silence.  The days had become calmer, peaceful like he’d wistfully imagined they would when the camp closed for the year.  Kathryn still occupied herself with the camp’s business; recruitment, making phone calls to children’s hospitals, and fundraising. But now, even her days were spent in her own harried form of leisure.

“What are we going to do for your birthday?”

 “This.”  

“You’re not going to get away with that,” She chastened.  “We’ll do something.”

“Honestly,” he turned around to regard her, adamancy lacing his statement.  “This is enough.” 

She raised her eyebrows in question before he put down the paint roller, angling himself to explain. “Do you remember that away mission we took on Alnaris Prime?” 

She laughed in memory of what had to be the most ridiculous Delta Quadrant species they’d ever come across. “The negation that ended in a trade of half of Neelix’s leola root stores for safe passage through their sector of space?”  

 _“That_ one,” He nodded in similar hilarity." 

“But that _wasn’t_ your birthday.” 

“No. But I remember the rest of the day, after our meeting with the planet’s officials.” 

“We went for a walk,” She remembered the planet well and the day even more so.  “The forest had trees like the Redwoods in California.”

“Yes,” He whispered. “I wanted to hold your hand, but I settled for a spot on your back.” 

“We talked about nothing,” She smiled. “Nothing and everything.”   

“You told me about Phoebe.  And how much you missed your mother’s brownies.” 

“You told me about your father. How much you missed him.”

“Yes,” Chakotay remembered softly. “So, that’s how I want to spend my birthday.”. 

In that moment a fist squeezed at her heart.  It overwhelmed and humbled her: how simply this man loved her.  “Tell me about your father, Chakotay.”   

Chakotay again relinquished the paint roller and turned himself to regard her.  “He would be happy to know that I married the woman I loved.  Happy to know that we were going to have a child. What would your father say?”

She leaned against the arm of the chair and cogitated his question.  “I always thought the life that my father envisioned for me had something to do with Starfleet and the admiralty. But so much of what he said to me over the years had nothing to do with that.  I’d put so many expectations on myself and modelled my life after his when all he wanted was for me to be happy.” 

“And are you?” Chakotay pressed. “Are you _happy_ , Kathryn, here in this life?” 

She’d thought on that question; the same one she'd considered her answer so many times in the last year.  “Yes,” Her answer was soft, a testament to its veracity. “But sometimes I feel that it’s wrong to be.” 

“It’s still strange to think that they’re still out there – _somewhere_ – without us.”

“I wonder about them in the morning when I wake up, sometimes before I go to sleep.”

“Where they are,” He thought aloud. “What they’re doing.”

“If they’re safe,” She added. _“Happy.”_

“I still have so many questions,” He grappled with the conception.  “About our life here. About what will happen to us, to our child…”

“Well,” her eyes twinkled with resignation before she said words she herself never expected to hear in her voice. “I suppose we’ll just have to _wait and see.”_


	131. Chapter 131

“Cold this morning,” Jan pulled her housecoat closer to her figure as she stood at the door to the porch. “Finally feels like fall is here.”

“Fall was always my favourite.”

“Mine too. I remember when I was younger, I nearly _climbed out of my skin_ waiting for the leaves to turn, dry up, and fall off the trees so that I could rake them up and jump into a pile of them.”

“You’d what?” 

Jan laughed at the expression on her friend’s face.“Didn’t you used to do that?” 

“No,” Kathryn scrunched her nose and shook her head. “What was the point?”

“There was no point. It was just fun. Why, what sorts of things did you do in the fall?”

“Well,” Kathryn took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she tried to remember. “Well, not much now that I think of it. But I enjoyed the smells and the coolness of the air.”

Jan cradled the hot cup in her palms, “I like the cold.” 

“That’s what Chakotay said this morning.”

 _“Chakotay_ said that? I thought he was more of a summer man.”

“So did I. But he likes the change.”

“So tell me,” Jan slid her glasses down her nose, trying to back Kathryn into the guilt corner. “Did you drive over here _by yourself_ this morning?”

“No,” Kathryn kept her gaze on the computer while rolling her eyes. “I walked.”

 _“Smart ass_ ,” Jan smirked and hit her lightly on the shoulder. “You know you shouldn’t be driving.”

“You sound like my husband.”

“Who you should _listen to_ more often. Is today your last appointment with Grace?”

“This afternoon.  Chakotay has a game, so I’m going alone.”

“Do you want me to be there?” Jan started prattling. “What time is it at again?”

Kathryn shook her head, amusement creeping up on her features. _“No, Jan,_ ” She teased. “I don’t need a baby sitter. You know I’m a big girl now. I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

Kathryn met the older woman’s gaze and saw the subtle hurt fomented by her acerbic comeback. “I’m _sorry_ , Jan. I’m just...” She felt guilty for her outburst. “Would you?”

“Would I what?” Jan’s tone was soft with the inflections one would think to use when speaking with an angry child.

“Come today at four.”

“Of course. Is this the last time you’ll see her before the delivery?”

“Mmm,” Kathryn nodded her head while taking a sip of lukewarm tea. “Only a few weeks now.”

“Think she’ll stay put through Thanksgiving?”

“Maybe. I’m hoping with all the plans we’ve made that we make it through the day.”

“And you’re _sure_ about having it at your house? We can always have it here you know.”

 “You sound like Chakotay.”

“That’s becoming a habit,” Jan laughed. “But I’ll take it as a compliment. I’ll still cook the dinner, though.”

“But I-“

“Kathryn, the point of Thanksgiving is to eat and digest the food, _not_ regurgitate it,” Jan grinned at the rise that elicited.

 _“What_ are you saying?”

 _“Me?”_ Jan tried for incredulity while her hands gesticulated her innocence. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all!”

 _“It sounds_ like you’re saying I’m _not_ a good cook.”

“You’ve been getting better,” Jan grimaced thinking back to the last meal she’d attempted on her own: spaghetti sauce from scratch. The result was so tastelessly salty it might as well have been ladled Dead Sea brine.

“You’re right,” Kathryn didn’t sound the least bit offended. “I don’t think my skills are up to par for a full meal. Back on the sh-” She stopped herself and laughed off her lapse. “Well, Chakotay always used to cook our meals.  All the ones I attempted always ended up burnt!”

“I don’t think he complained.”

“No,” Kathryn smiled at the memories. “He never did. I can’t even remember how many peanut butter sandwiches he ended up eating.”

“So how many people are coming, again? You, me, Chakotay, Gregg, Ann, Andrew – and who else?”

“Shannon and Henry and their two children.”

“Your friends up in Portage Creek.  How did you meet them, again?”

“On a trip.  We share the same last name,” Kathryn played off. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Small world,” Jan raised her voice over the crinkling of the newspaper. “Any relation?”

“No,” She lied. “You and Gregg will like them. Henry owns a book store in the Millennium Gate shopping centre and his wife, Shannon, is an engineer on the project.”

“Oh that’s right. You went to the fair with them last month. Oh, _damnit,_ what time is it?”

Kathryn glanced down at her watch. “Almost seven thirty. Late again, Jan?” 

 _“You know,”_ Jan’s voice echoed down the hallway. _“Gregg’s the punctual one.  He’s been keeping me on time for all these years!”_

“It’s a wonder you’re even out of bed!” 

 _“Don’t I know it!”_ Jan’s voice was muffled in her sweater as she came back out to the kitchen, somehow looking put together. "If you hadn’t come over when you did, I _might_ still be. Now you’re sure you want me there today?”

“Yes,” Kathryn breathed with a grin. “Four o’clock. Don't be _late.”_

“Ha-ha,” Jan walked around and lightly brushed a kiss on Kathryn’s cheek. “I won’t be. You’re okay to lock up?”

“Fine,” Kathryn nodded, turning back to the pile in front of her.

 _“Good,”_ Jan ran out the door before she heard her accustomed response. _“See you at four!”_


	132. Chapter 132

Brian quickened his steps to catch up with the older man’s longer stride. _“Coach!”_  

“Hey, Brian,” Chakotay turned around to find the disheveled teen running after him. “Is something on your mind?”

He caught his breath, “Liz isn’t coming today, so we’ll have to sub Rachel in to take her place.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” Brian shrugged. “Just girl stuff, you know.”

Chakotay pulled at his earlobe. “Sure. Well, Uh,” He turned over the idea of subbing in Anna, one of the new juniors. “We could put Anna in…”

“Anna’s good. But not as right midfielder. Rachel’s better.”

He thought on it a while more as the rest of the team barreled onto the field. “I’ll put Anna in today and see how she does. You’ll-“

“But coach! _This_ is our first real play against Huntston since the skirmish. We _need_ -“

Chakotay put up his hand, silencing the young man. “Brian, I’ve made my decision.”

The young man looked sufficiently chastised by the harsh quality of the coach’s normally soft tone, “Sorry sir.”

“All right,” He nodded and patted his shoulder. “Bring everyone in.”

“Is Kathryn coming, Coach?” Rachel asked.

“Uh,” Chakotay shook his head, smiling when he thought of his wife but hit with a pang of regret that he wasn’t going to be with her today. “No, but maybe later if she finishes her errands on time.”

“We might need her,” Alex laughed, remembering the last time she’d come. 

“Has she had the baby yet, Coach?” Anna Marie blushed.

“No,” Chakotay shook his head and tried to quell nervous butterflies. “But soon. Soon. _So,_ ” He scanned the faces of the eager young adults in front of him before a conspiratory leer brought out scheming dimples. “I have a _particular_ feeling…”

“That…?” Rishon goaded, kicking the turf under his feet.

Megan giggled, “Yeah, don’t keep us in suspense, Coach!” 

“I have a _feeling_ ,” He repeated the words with emphasis. “That we’re going to _beat_ Huntson.”

* * *

 

 Kathryn felt before she heard Jan’s victory voice as she plopped down in the seat next to her. _“See._ I _told you_ I’d be here on time.”

A crooked smile turned Kathryn’s cheek as she put down the small paperback book she’d been reading. “Thank you, Jan.”

Her friend’s hand reached onto her lap to steal the book resting against her thigh, “How long have you been here?” 

“Not long,” Kathryn handed the book over. “Fifteen minutes now.”

_“Little Women?”_

“Mm,” Kathryn drew a deep breath and relaxed back into the chair. “It was a gift.”

“I loved this book growing up,” Jan mused fondly while her fingers ran over the worn pages. “I always wanted to be Jo.”

“I was Jo,” Kathryn laughed while the contrived image of the character played at her. “Sometimes I feel like I still am.”

“I can see that. She’s strong and _stubborn_ just like you.“

 _“Me?”_ Kathryn laughed.

“Did _I_ say that? Oh, Kathryn, _you could **never**_ be accused of being stubborn.  Bullheaded would be a better word, maybe a little mulish at times.”

“I see so much of myself in Jo with her temper, her spirit, how much of a tomboy she is…”

“I remember after reading this book when I was a little girl, my parents took me on a trip to New England during the summer. We visited the Alcott home in Concord where the book was set, presumably…” She turned through the pages of the book in question, the memories playing out over her. "There was a sense of _magic_ about this book.  It was something that made me anxious when I reached the last couple of chapters and saw that the bulk of my journey was behind me and that a good story was coming to an end.”

Kathryn’s voice was soft, her eyes rich with memories and recollections of somewhere, _something_ , else. “You think another book will never take you on as good a journey.”

“But there are,” Jan took her hand. “ _Other books_ , Kathryn. And just because one ends doesn’t mean you’ll never see it, feel it, or experience it again. I used to read Little Women every year, and each time I’d find something I hadn’t seen before like a new favourite line, or a favourite scene…”

Tears bit at Kathryn when she thought of her ship and of the memories she had left behind; of the people she’d never see again. Here she was, beginning this new stage in her life and seeing all the other precious, and some _not so precious_ , chapters behind her. _“What’s wrong, Kathryn?”_ The softness of the back of Jan’s hand met with her cheek and wiped away the brine that collected there.

“Nothing,” Kathryn shook her head, smiling to cover feelings she herself couldn’t properly explain. “It’s nothing, Jan. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“It’s okay to say you’re scared.”

The younger woman looked at her, “I don’t think Jo is afraid of anything.”

A warm grin broke out over Jan’s face as a melodious chuckle accompanied a warm arm around her friend’s shoulders. “That because, Kathryn, Jo _isn’t_ real. And besides, I used to think she used her wit and her tongue to hide from things, sometimes to hide from life, even love.”

“But in the end,” Kathryn thumbed the few pages of the epilogue she’d not read yet. “In the end, Jo finds her happiness and stops running. She stops being afraid.”

“Yes,” Jan shook her head and ran gentle fingers through the long hair that fell over Kathryn’s shoulders. “Jo found her happiness, and maybe she stopped running.  But I don’t think she ever stopped being afraid. It just got easier.”

"Thank you, Jan," Kathryn accepted a warm kiss on her cheek before the moment was broken.  

 _“Kathryn?"_ The nurse called.   _"The doctor is ready for you.”_


	133. Chapter 133

“Well, Kathryn,” Grace kept a plastered grin as she walked through the door, eyes busily on the chart before she registered her friend.  “Goodness, _Jan_! I didn’t know you were coming with Kathryn today!”

Jan smiled as she embraced her colleague.“Surprise!”  

“Good to see you, and you, Kathryn.  My God you’re fit to _bursting_ now!”

Kathryn’s hand rested proudly on her belly. “Just about!” 

“Well,” Grace made herself comfortable while she reviewed the rest of the chart. “Is Chakotay coming today?”

“No. He has a soccer game this afternoon.  So not this time." 

“So Grace,” Jan cut in. “What’s the verdict? Are we set to go in a few weeks?”

The young doctor looked pointedly at her patient, the smile not dissipating.  “I’m _remarkably pleased_ , Kathryn, at how this pregnancy has gone. Everything has been on target – your weight gain, although a little low by the charts, has been on point, the baby’s at a good weight.  You should be very pleased."  

“We are,” Kathryn nodded gratefully. “Hopefully it’s a portent of good things to come.” 

“So, today, since this is the last time I’ll see you before the big day-“

 _“Or night_ ,” Jan told her.  

“Or night.  I suppose what I wanted to do was review the birth plan, take a few measurements, do a swab and then we’ll have you on your way.”

Jan looked tentatively at her friend.“Do you want me to stay, Kathryn?” 

 _This_ is what it would be like to have her own mother here to dote on her. For the past seven years, it had become her custom to brush off the kindness and support of others. But over the past few months, Kathryn had learned to renege on her stubborn position.  Perhaps, she thought, it was because one hundred and fifty people no longer relied on her.  Or, perhaps she no longer felt the need to uphold the persona of the indefatigable captain. But regardless, she’d come to nearly revel in Jan’s attention, however much she outwardly fought against it.  “Of course, Jan,” She watched the light spread over the older woman’s features.  “Please stay.” 

 _“So,”_ Jan laughed as she helped Kathryn out of the chair. “Are we _still thinking_ a tub birth?”

* * *

The echo from the referee’s whistle faded off, sending the sweaty band of disgruntled teens to the sidelines.  _“Okay!Bring it in!”_  

Rachel took a sloppy sip of water from one of the dozen bottles scattered in the grass, letting the cool water run down her chin.  “Ugh, Coach, Huntston’s _kil-“_

“ _Not_ killing you,” Chakotay corrected deliberately.  “They’re only four points ahead.  Now, we’ll sub some of you out – Rishon,” He looked up at the young man. “Take a breather-“

“But coach-!”

“ _Rishon_ ,” Chakotay wasn’t in the mood to bargain, which seemed to be the only thing the students wanted to do.  “Parker, Steven, and Samantha, all three of you take a break and I’ll put you back in after the next quarter.” 

_“But coach-!”_

_“Enough!_ Everyone else, keep to the game plan we talked about.  You’re all doing fine, but save your energy from the last quarter.  Huntston’s running themselves ragged, so we might gain an advantage at the very end. And one thing you _aren’t doing_ –“ He scanned the expectantly bedraggled crowd.  “ ** _Pass. the. ball!_**  Stop trying to be the hero. Your teammates are here for a reason. Each and every one of you is capable. So, maybe a little bit of trust and a lot more passing, _please_.  Okay?”

Thirty ruddied, sweaty teenagers nodded their heads and shrugged their shoulders while giving each other the odd eye at coach’s strange behaviour as they made their way back out onto the field just as the whistle blew. Exhaustedly, Chakotay rubbed his face for the umpteenth time that day.  A year was a long enough time to break old habits, but the one he couldn’t seem to shake was yielding to exhaustion and admitting he was tired enough to relent to rest. 

* * *

_Kathryn smirked at him over the steam rising from her tea. _“You know, Chakotay…”__

_He heard her smile before he saw it, turning away from their breakfast steaming on the stove to regard her. _“What do I know?”__

_“I was thinking you could teach a course.”_

_“Well, you know, the Principal is thinking about letting me teach sixth grade science next year…”_

_“No,” She laughed and shook her head.  “I meant a course on worry and exhaustion. You seem to specialise in it."_

_“Me?  You practically wrote the manual.” He laughed and moved around the kitchen to loudly free two bowls from the cabinet.  “I can’t help it if I worry about you, Kathryn.”_

_“It’s a wonder you’re not completely grey after all these years.”_

_Chakotay laughed while he arranged her breakfast. “ _“Well the ones that are grey – _those are yours. Here," He laid an ample portion in front of her._  "Grace _and Jan, even Gregg, have said you’re still a little underweight. And I agree with them.” _

_“Chakotay,” Kathryn scolded with a roll of her eyes as she swirled her spoon through the small bowl of porridge.  “I’m as big as this house and you know it.”_

_“Still."_

 _“Would you cut it out,” Her tone was soft. “I’m fine.  You know,” She covered her mouth through a bolus of cooled oatmeal. “You would have been absolutely intolerable if we’d been together on the ship.  Can you imagine?”_

_“That’s right.  I’d have put my foot down and locked you in your quarters.” He pointed back at her with his spoon.  “You’d never have gotten to go on that assimilation field trip and all other array of indigestion-inducing away missions.  You nearly gave me a heart attack on more occasions than I can count.”_

_“I’m sorry. Really, but-”_

_“I know,” He took her hand, twining their fingers together before he brought the contrasted combination to his lips.  “But you wouldn’t have been yourself if you hadn’t taken those risks. So as much as I hated worrying…”_

_“Thank you,” She whispered, touched by his kindness and still wondering if she’d ever feel she merited the unconditional love he had for her._

_“Promise me you won’t go alone next week.”_

_“I won’t,” Kathryn smiled crookedly.  “I’ll bet you that if she can, Jan will be chomping at the bit.”_

* * *

 

“Hello stranger." 

 _“Hey, Kathryn!”_ Megan waved from the bench. _“You made it!”_

 _“I did,”_ She called back to the young girl.  “ _I didn’t think I could bring myself to miss the game with Huntston!_ Chakotay?” 

_"_ Hi," He was momentarily startled by her presence.  “How was the appointment?” 

“Good.”

He kissed her hair, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Jan came?” 

"Jan came," She confirmed.  "We're all set to go.  Did you put her up to it?" 

“No,” He laughed.  

“Liar.” 

“That was all Jan. I promise.”  

“How’s the game?”

“Could be better." 

“They seem to be doing fine.”

“They usually do,” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s just me.” 

“You’re worried today.”

“I’m worried _every day.”_

“Why?”  

“You know why,” He kept his tone soft, only audible to her ears.  “I worry about you, about-“ 

Kathryn turned around, reaching on her toes to kiss him gently on the lip before turning back to the match. “You worry  _too much,_  Chakotay.” 

“ _I worry too much?”_ He was laughing through the words that just came through her lips. “ _I worry too much._ Oh my, Kathryn,” He chuckled, smiling as he saw Brian race the ball up towards Huntston’s goal, nearly unhindered as the offensive trailed behind him. “Oh how the _tide_ s have _turned.”_


	134. Chapter 134

_“Oh!”_ Kathryn’s body spasmed in pleasure, her head lolling back against the arm of the couch. “There,” A sated grin passed over her as the pleasure dissipated. “Just there. _Oh,_ that’s good…” Her husband laughed and redoubled his efforts. “Have I ever told you that your hands are magic?”

“Once or twice.”

“Well they are,” She peered at him through heavy lids. 

He smiled fondly at her, marvelling that this was the same woman, that she was now his wife. His eyes traced the fine curves of her legs, the roundness of her middle, the full shape of her breasts, and her beautiful face, now even more stunning when stripped of makeup and framed by wisps of long hair falling out of a messy pony tail.

“What?” Her voice was velvety soft, steeped in enjoyment, as she caught him staring.

“Nothing,” He shrugged and changed feet, drawing another soft moan. “The kids were glad you came today. You were our good luck charm.”

“That’s nonsense,” Kathryn chuckled, touched by the nice words. “The kids beat Huntston today because they have a very patient, very talented, coach.”

“Still…”

“So how does it feel? _Oh!”_

His hands moved from her arch to her ankle.“How does what feel?” 

“I’m _barely –oh_ -“ His fingers massaged around the swelling in her calf. “Barely coherent when you do that.”

“Should I be offended?” 

“No. Why?”

“It sounds to me that you like me massaging your feet more than sex.”

That elicited a loud belly-laugh. “No,” She shook her head. “But a _close_ second.”

 _“Somehow,_ ” He tickled her instep, making her squeal. “I _don’_ t believe you...”

 _“Okay, okay!”_ She gasped, trying not to kick him as wandering fingers travelled up to that spot behind her knee. “Uncle!”

“You still haven’t told me what Grace said.”

Kathryn caught her breath as her excitement died down. “Nothing, really. Nothing we didn’t already know or hadn’t already talked about with her.”

“You’re comfortable with everything? You’re not worried about anything?”

“No. It’s _you_ I’m worried about.”

 _“Me?_ I thought that was my line for you.”

“It is,” Kathryn remembered. “ _Was_. Now it’s my turn. For seven years you never let me worry about you, Chakotay. You were always the one following after me; making sure I ate, that I was comfortable-“

“I enjoyed it, Kathryn.”

“Well I enjoy taking care of you, now. When you _let_ me, when-”

 _“Kathryn,_ I’m not the one who’s pregnant, who’s-“

 _“Stop,”_ She silenced him softly. “You’re not telling me what’s wrong, Chakotay. You’ve lost more weight, you hardly sleep at night. I heard the kids talking today about your short temper? That’s not you.”

He looked away and shrugged in indifference as a guilty frown hijacked his sharply handsome features. “I don’t know, Kathryn, it’s just…”

With effort she propped herself up and swung her legs off his lap onto the floor so she could sit next to him.“What?” 

“I worry about our life here, about raising this child.” A tender hand reached out to caress the swollen stomach. “About money, bills, fees. All the things we never had to worry about before."  

 _“I know_ ,” She nodded, taking his hands in hers, encouraging him on. “But, other than the house, we have _nothing_ of extravagance, Chakotay. We don’t need it. We’ve learned to live within our means. We’re both employed-”

“But you deserve _more_ than this life. _More_ than _I_ can give you!”

She let her head fall back and her hands curl into a fist while her teeth grit in annoyance as that calm demeanour gave way to annoyance more than tenderness. “Chakotay, sometimes you annoy the hell out of me.  You can’t _just accept_ that I’m happy with you; happy _here_. Yes there are times when I wish this wasn’t our life; times I wish we hadn’t left the ship, abandoned the people we cared about, made a promise to. But…” She stopped, her scowl melting. “Then I reflect on our life here: my life with you, the people we’ve come to love and call our family, and I realise that for the first time in a long time, really _all my life,_ that I’m _happy._ ”

Chakotay let his head fall forward in something like relief. “I keep thinking you’re putting on a brave face, like you always do - _did-_  on Voyager. That you're doing it for me. _Now_.”

“I _do_ do it for you,” Kathryn leaned into him. “But more than that, I do it because I can’t help it. But I am worried, just like you, about the future and what will happen, how,” she laughed. “We’re going to manage everything. But _we will,_ ” She promised. “Almost a year ago you wouldn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me and now we’re married.”

That drew the first genuine smile all day. “I’m grateful for that _every day_ , Kathryn.”

“Me too. Chakotay,” Her eyes met his earnestly. “ _Please_ don’t hold things from me.”

“I won’t,” He nodded. “I promise.”

"Okay," She kissed him. "Let's put out the fire and go to bed."

" _Just,_ go to bed?"  There was that cheeky smile as he got up and dissipated the last dying embers.  

 _"Well,_ " Two arms came around his waist, slowly finding their way under the loose waist band of his jeans.  "I was thinking we could test that theory?" 

"See if I can best myself?" 

 _"Mm,"_ She laughed as he kissed her.  "Certainly _can't hurt_ to try." 

 


	135. Chapter 135

 Jan chuckled when she saw Kathryn’s outfit: a red top with green leggings. “Where were you two this evening, a Christmas party?”

“No,” Chakotay shook his head, still laughing at his wife's attire. “I had to chaperone the school dance.”

Scowling, Kathryn toed off her shoes and stepped into the warm kitchen. “And I came with." 

Gregg appeared from the hallway to lay a kiss on the younger woman’s cheek.  “Oh, you look beautiful, Kathryn.” 

“Maybe a little silly, but a compliment is always welcome.  Thank you, Gregg,” She stood on her tiptoes to return the gesture. “How was San Francisco?”

“Good,” He manoeuvred around the kitchen to garner the last of the dinnerware.  “The weather there is always lovely.” 

“I can imagine,” Kathryn remembered warm breezes, long, hazy sunsets. Days determined to be interminable. While she was a student, she’d had little time for recreation, but in the midst of her harried pace, she’d found time to enjoy the city with all its sights and subtle smells, the ocean air mingling with the artifice of the city. 

“Have you been?” Gregg asked.

She angled to help him with dinner. “A long time ago…” 

 _“Ah!”_ He shooed her away.  “Absolutely not.  You’re a guest in this house tonight. Just keep me company while I finish this.” 

"Fine," She gave him a glare to no avail until she relented. Gregg so much like her own father and she hadn’t the heart to argue with him.  “So how was the conference?” 

“Good, we-  _Jan!”_ He called out into the living room.  

 _“What?”_ Came her singsong reply from down the hallway.

“How much longer on the risotto?”

 _“Twenty minutes!”_  

“Sorry, Kathryn,” He turned the dial on the timer and turned back to her. What were you saying?”

Cumbersomely, she hoisted herself up into her accustomed stool. “The con- _ference_. You were telling me about it.” 

“Oh, it _was_ excellent! And the hotel was _divine._ Let me tell you, I had the _most_ heavenly brioche. You would have died!  I nearly did, couldn’t do anything for an hour afterwards until I’d called Jan and raved for a good ten minutes.” 

Sometimes Gregg reminded her so much of Neelix.  No, not outwardly, but sometimes in his mannerisms, in the things he did or said. It was in his kindness and overt tenderness. “Jan told me.”   Her thoughts of the cook/ambassador/morale officer were often bittersweet.  She looked back on him with such fondness, remembering his selflessly thoughtful humanity.  And on reflection, she realized that her treatment of him often mirrored the same pattern on how she’d treated Chakotay.  Over and over again she brushed away his concern, belittling it and at times disparaging him for it. 

On the ship she had never given it much thought; never realised how much her crew had worshiped her and often how cold she was towards them.  She had meted out kindness sometimes a little too abstemiously, and was only too prone to brusque professionalism.  Many times, she’d couched it with the excuse that she was _the captain_ and that she was running a Starfleet vessel. But more and more, she realized that often times that sense of duty had waylaid her humanity.

 _“I’ll bet_. I had to restrain myself around my colleagues later that morning at the podium,”  Gregg gestured histrionically with the wooden spoon in his hand. “Very quickly could my dissertation on early tumour markers in rhabdomyosarcoma have turned into an exceptionally long, very winded, soliloquy on the finer art of French baking.”

Jan’s voice sang in laughter as she and Chakotay walked into the kitchen, “Has Gregg been telling you about his supernatural experience with the brioche?”  

“Brioche?”  Chakotay sauntered to peer into the pot. “I love brioche." 

“You _would_ ,” Kathryn grinned at him. “It’s mostly butter and sugar. I don’t think you’ve met a combination of the two you don’t like.” 

“Well you’re in luck this evening, then, Chakotay,” Jan squeezed his bicep as she walked past. “I made an apple pie this morning. It's not brioche, but it's just as sweet, and with plenty of _butter._ ”

 _“This_ morning _?”_ Kathryn sat back, arms crossed over her belly, amused.  “ _Before_ you went to work?” 

“Mm,” Jan preened. “Don’t look so shocked. I’ve made you cinnamon rolls plenty of times before.”  

“Those _were_ good…” Salivating at the recollection, Chakotay thought of the treats Kathryn would bring home after mornings spent doing work at Jan’s.  

“Consider yourselves lucky,” Gregg poured himself another glass of wine.  “She would never get up at five thirty in the morning to bake me my brioche.”

“Oh hush,” The back of her hand affectionately hit Gregg’s midsection.  “Grow some of those dimples and maybe I will.”

Kathryn and Chakotay both broke into a gale of laughter.  _“Jan!"_  

“Stop it,” Jan blushed, not nearly embarrassed.  “Gregg, Chakotay, help me bring dinner out.  And _you_ -“ Jan glared at Kathryn.  “Go sit down. Don’t you dare think about lifting a finger!” 

Suitably fore-chastised, Kathryn took her husband’s hand and got down from the stool, making her way into the dining room.  “I could at least carry the glasses, Jan.”

“Nonsense,” The older woman rolled her eyes.  “You will do _no such thing_. For the next few hours I have you under my direct supervision.  You will _sit_ there and _not move_ and tell me all about this Halloween party.”  

“ _Well_ ,” Kathryn’s voice strained as she leveraged her weight into the chair, marvelling at the dinner Jan and Gregg had prepared for them.  “Chakotay and I looked absolutely ridiculous for starters.” 

“How so?” 

“The purpose of Halloween is to dress up. Is it not?” 

Gregg and Jan shared a pointed look as they sat down at the table.  “Not for teenagers, it isn’t.” 

Kathryn’s hand flicked at her husband’s thigh as he took his seat next to her.  “Well you could have told me that before I went dressed as an apple!” 

 _“Hey!”_   He swatted caught her hand in his own, folding their fingers together to avoid any further bodily injury.  “I dressed up too. I got _no_ warning!”  

“Chakotay’s version of dressing up was a pirate. Does he look any different than he normally does?” 

Jan gave her a sympathetic look before she carried on.  “The only prop he had on was a hat, which he took off, leaving him looking devastatingly handsome in his white button down shirt, while  I,” she scowled at the man next to her. “On the other hand, looked _absolutely outrageous!_ " 

Gregg’s voice was pedantic as he scooped a large portion of risotto onto her plate.“Well how were you to know that for high schoolers the point of the holiday is to see who can be the naughtiest bunny?”  

 “How did you know?”

“We get plenty of them in our ER around this time every year.”

“But otherwise,” Kathryn shrugged. “We had a nice time. Brian came with Rachel.”

Jan leaned forward, her fork clanging against her plate.  _“Rachel Murphy?”_

“Mm,” Kathryn’s lips curled like they did when she shared gossip.  “Much to the very _public_ chagrin of Leah.” 

“Jimmy Thompson’s daughter, as in Leah Thompson?”  

 _“The one_ ,” Kathryn took a bite of her dinner, leading her friend on.  “This is celestial, Jan. Thank you.” 

“Well don’t leave me hanging, Kathryn! What happened?!” 

The men looked at each other across the table, rolling their eyes.  “Well,” She shrugged.  “Nothing. Rishon asked Leah to dance and the whole drama died down.” 

“Oh,” Jan was almost dejected. “I was hoping for something a little juicier.” 

“So was I,” Kathryn frowned. “But it was fun. They’re a great group of kids.”

“They didn’t get too randy on the dance floor?” 

“No,” Chakotay almost choked on his dinner.  “The parents chose the selection of music – they didn’t have a chance.” 

“Oh _good Lord!_ ” Jan giggled. “What were they dancing to, Niel Diamond?”  

“No,” Kathryn tried to remember the name of the singers.  By the end of the summer, she’d been versed in just about every teenie bopper band and solo artist that was out there at the moment.  The songs, she’d thought, were terribly trite, but over the three and a half month course of the camp, she’d learned most of them off by heart. “Mostly Katy Perry and One Direction.” 

“I do have to say,” Gregg angled his bottom into the chair with an air of histrionic indignance. “I like Katy Perry.” 

Jan rolled her eyes. “He also likes the Backstreet Boys and NSYNC. His iPod is practically musical suicide bar his selection of Gato Barbieri.”

“I never get first pick of the radio stations when we have to drive anywhere.” 

“Absolutely not,” Jan shot back. “We’ve learned to bargain and settled for the news.”

“It’s the first rule of marriage,” Gregg took another sip of wine. “Compromise. So ,Thanksgiving’s coming up. Are we still having it your house?” 

“Mm,” Chakotay nodded. “Kathryn’s insisted.” 

“It seems like a good way to break in the house,” Kathryn smiled.  “I wanted this one to be special.” 

“I never celebrated the holiday growing up,” Chakotay retook her hand under the table. 

“Just as well,” Jan laughed. “You probably avoided all the holiday weight gain!” 

“Which _we,”_ Gregg rubbed his abdomen. “Are not immune to anymore, sadly.”

“Gone are the days of our spritely youthful metabolism, so this year Gregg and I are trying to be extra careful. I just had my cholesterol checked and well…” 

“It’s true.  But,” The older man looked at his wife dubiously, cutting off her divulsion.  “What’s the saying that kids are throwing around these days…?” 

“Don’t you dare, Greggory!”     

“It’s on the tip of my tongue! What was it again, Chakotay?” 

“Well,” Chakotay sat back in his chair, his thumb rubbing over Kathryn’s as he pretended to think on it. “You know I think it starts with a Y, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Oh that’s right,” Tauntingly Gregg leaned his elbows on the table towards his wife.  “Yolo.”

"I _hate_ that saying. You are going to pay for that, Greggory, in the _most painful_ of ways.”


	136. Chapter 136

The echoes of scampering footsteps sounded loudly on the wrought iron staircase. _“Mom!”_  

 _“Shhh,”_ Shannon smiled broadly with a finger over her mouth. “Hi there, Possum.”

 _“Mommy!”_ Aoiffe’s arms wrapped tightly around the small women as the pair of them swayed in the doorway. “Chilly,” She held Shannon closer. “Cold air’s getting in.”

Shannon moved forward, kneeing her bags into the warm kitchen. “Is everyone else asleep?”

“Uh huh,” The young girl nodded as she rolled the small carry-on out of her way. “Dad was tired. He tried to stay up, but you know he’s a goner when Chaucer stops being _riveting_.”

Shannon let out a muffled laugh at the picture Aoiffe painted. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Did we get many trick or treaters this year?”

“Not many, maybe forty,” Aoiffe shook her head, indicating the still-full bowl of Halloween candy. “Dad, Caleb, and I have been eating it mostly.”

Shannon tried to remember how many they had last year.“Forty’s a lot.” 

“We had over a hundred last year.” 

“That’s right.  The years are all blending into one! Aoiff, put the kettle on, I’m going to change and we’ll catch up before I send you back off to sleep,” She tried to scowl at the young girl, but it ended up as a wink.

“It’s _only_ eleven mom. Most of my friends stay up till midnight.”

“ _Most_ of _your_ friends don’t run track or have an afterschool job like you do, young lady.”

“Do you want tea?”

“No,” Shannon looked up from her hunting through her suitcase. “Hot chocolate. Do we have any, or did dad and Caleb drink it all?”

Aoiffe rummaged through the cabinet to find the prised canister in question. “No. I saved you some.”

Shannon’s chocolate sweet tooth was notorious. “Thank you,” She kissed her daughter on the cheek before disappearing into the bathroom to change.

“Did you meet the President this time, mom?”

Aoiffe heard a laugh from the bathroom. “I hope you haven’t been telling your friends at school that I’ve been consorting with the president.”

“No…” The girl reddened, hoping her latest rumour wouldn’t reach home.

“Well no,” Her mother’s amusement was hardly tamped as she came out of the bathroom in a pair of long sweatpants and a tank. “Not this time, nor any.”

“So,” Aoiffe turned the stove off as the kettle began to whistle. “What did you do this time? Did you go with Jacqui and Tedd?”

“Nothing glamorous. And yes, Jacqui, Ted - the _whole_ crew,” Shannon explained as she got down two mugs from the cabinet. “We’re still in the development stage on the project.  We're working with engineers from NASA, officials from the government, foreign heads of state-“

“The Russians?”

Shannon’s lips crooked a crooked grin as she stepped back and looked at her daughter, not a little astonished. “What do _you know_ about the Russians?”

“I’ve been reading…” Aoiffe shrugged. “About the space race, man’s first steps on the moon. Dad even let me watch Apollo 13 last night.”

“Dad let you watch a _movie?_ " Shannon's voice brimmed in disbelief. “In _this_ house?”

 _“No one_ was more shocked than me or Caleb!”

“The winds of change must be blowing through the Janeway house!”

“Don’t worry,” Aoiffe laughed. “He told us not to get used to it; that after the movie was finished it was _‘back to books for the Janeways’_.”

“Oh well,” Shannon let out a sigh as her body came into contact with the old, floppy couch and picked at the lint on her old sweatpants. “Just as well. Sometimes constance can be a blessing with everything else that’s going on in the world. But _yes_ , to answer your questions, we’re conferencing with the Russians, even the Chinese, and some other European countries. Everyone is very interested in the project,” Shannon’s voice took on a mystical tone. “If this works, then it’s a whole new world for us. It could be the start of space exploration that scientists up till this point have only dreamed of...” 

“Why did you stop being an astronaut, mom? Dad says it’s because…” The young girl fumbled trying to find the words her father used. “Well, I’m not even sure he knows, and you barely talk about that time in your life.”

Shannon sighed and sat back against the worn cushions. “There were many, reasons, Aoiffe. I remember being in college and wanting to be in NASA so badly. I don’t think I ever wanted anything so much. And just like that, I was accepted into the training programme, and I-”

“It’s hard to get into, isn’t it?”

 _“Oh, yes_ ,” Shannon remembered. “ _Very_. And so I moved to Texas, thinking I’d be the next Bonnie Dunbar. That in five year’s time I’d be in space….”

“But?” 

Shannon smiled and resumed her walk down memory lane, a pastime she rarely indulged. But one, this cold evening, she was finding therapeutic. “Well,” She took a sip of her hot drink and cleared her throat. “The programme was two years in length, and I finished the first part of it.“

“So how come you said you never finished?”

“No, I did. I finished basic training  and all the craziness that involved,” Shannon corrected. “I learned Russian, did deep sea diving… I did it all. But,” She shrugged. “When it came time to decide to go on for further training and finish everything so that I was fully qualified to go into space… I don’t know what happened. Maybe I got scared, but I found myself running.”

“Is that when you met dad?”

“A little after that. Yes, it wasn’t too long after I left Texas that I wound up here in Portage Creek.”

“Do you regret it? Leaving NASA, not living your dream.”

Shannon’s features softened as she relinquished her mug to brush her daughter’s fringe back from her eyes. “Who said I wasn’t living my dream.”

“Because you don’t want something so badly and then just stop wanting it.” More and more Shannon was learning that her daughter was growing up, wisening, maybe surpassing both herself and her husband. “Is that why you’re going to Washington every weekend now. Do you want to do that again?”

“You know, you're too wise for you own good, Aoiffe - for your own _age!_ " She laughed but her young daughter's pointed gaze was hard to back down from. " But, I don’t know.” Shannon hadn’t thought on her motives. The Millennium Gate had saved her when she came to Portage Creek. It and Henry had given her back her purpose when she’d felt she’d lost it. But now, this was something different; something she may now have realised she was trying to get back to. “I don’t want to go to space anymore, but the lure of doing something bigger than myself and being part of a bigger picture is seductive.”

“And _you_ make fun of _me_ for wanting to leave Portage Creek.” 

“Because, _maybe_ after all these years of living with your father, his reluctance for things to change has rubbed off a little on me, especially where you and Caleb are concerned. You don’t remember what it was like for me when Jason went to college _all the way_ in California at Stanford!”

“Jason loves to tell that story,” Aoiffe giggled. “He practically had to push you out the door of his dormitory!”

“He did _literally_ push me. Would you believe that it was _your father,_ the man _known for_ his aversion to change, who encouraged Jason to go?”

“People change, mom,” Aoiffe reminded her. “You rubbed off on dad and he rubbed off on you.”

“Maybe. So,” Shannon decided to change the subject.  She’d had enough introspection for one night. “Did dad fill you in on the plan for Thanksgiving?”

Aoiffe’s tired features brightened. “That we’re going back to Arcadia to spend it with Kathryn and Chakotay and their friends.”

“Mmm, I’ll be in Texas the weekend before, but when I get back we’ll head up for the day. Sound good?”

“I like Kathryn and Chakotay,” Aoiffe thought of the tall handsome man and his wife. “Kathryn looks like you.”

“That’s what Henry say. _Maybe_ there _is_ a family connection…”

“All the way back to our ancestors from Ireland?”

“Well,” Shannon collected their cups and made her way towards the kitchen. “More like England, on your father’s side.  Janeway is an English surname. But the Irish work in _mysterious_ ways, so maybe.”

“You know mom, Dad grumbles when you leave because he misses you. But I don’t think he’d ever hold you back if you wanted that life again. None of us would,” Aoiffe kissed her mother on the cheek as she brushed past on her way to get a glass of water. “Goodnight, mom. It’s good to have you home.”


	137. Chapter 137

Chakotay liked the way his feet sounded as they crunched on the dried leaves, and he relished the smell of the air: chilly now, somehow sweeter when his breath billowed out in front of him like hot steam.

“Jan said that when she was a girl she used to rake up all these leaves and jump on them. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“No,” Chakotay shook his head. “What was the point?”

“That’s exactly what I asked her! She said it was for fun.”

“I’d say we should try it, but,” He looked down at her belly, one eyebrow quirked to his hairline. “Maybe _next year...”_

“Next year…” She smiled and thought of what that would bring: the laughter of a child, Chakotay as a father, her as a mother. Things she’d only dreamed of now were palpable, just under her fingertips.

Their arms swung between them as they walked the perimeter of their property. “It’s been nearly a year now.”

“A year next month,” He nodded, for a moment remembering the day they’d come. “It doesn’t seem real. Sometimes, _sometimes_ I have to pinch myself. Sometimes I think this is a dream.”

She looked up at him, huffing a laugh. “Maybe we’re stuck in some altered state of conscience, like we were with Naomi’s Pitcher Plant.”

“I’m glad you said it,” He pulled her out of the way of a thatch of brambles. “Sometimes I think if you imagine the worst, the worst can’t happen.”

“Well, at least not the way you said it. I used to do that all the time. Still do it all the time.”

Even without looking at him she saw his smile and those big, exaggerated dimples she’d long since memorised. “We’re both of us _terrible_ pessimists!” 

“I think we’ve earned it after what we went through for all those years.” Kathryn stopped and looked as far as she could see into the forest on the property they now called their home. “People never had land like this. When I was growing up we had a house with a modest plot of land, but nothing like this- nothing _so_ big. Maybe that’s why I liked space so much.  There was room.”

“We had land on Dorvan.   _Too much,_ ” He chuckled. “But Dorvan was dry and hot like I imagine Nevada or Arizona to be. Our house was small and primitive even by today’s standards. You’d never even have known it was the twenty fourth century if you’d lived in our house.”

“You were a colonist. You weren’t supposed to be living in luxury. But my parent’s house wasn’t much different. Made of wood and glass just like ours is.”

Chakotay looked down at the crown of her head, laying a kiss as they resumed their saunter. “Do you still think of them?”

“Who?”

“Your mother, Phoebe, Mark…”

Kathryn stopped again as she thought on the question. “No.” That answer made her sad. “Not as much as I used to.  Not as much as I should. And _Mark,_ ” She peevishly looked up at him. “Chakotay, I think you know by now that I haven’t thought of Mark Johnson since the day you beamed to my bridge!”

He winked down at her, earning an accustomed shove to his chest.“Just checking.” 

 _“Rascal!_  But no, I don’t. Sometimes I wonder what my mother would do if she were here.  I wonder how she is with Phoebe’s children. But as strange as it is to say, Jan has become more of a mother than I ever let Gretchen be. Phoebe was always the needy one and my mother nurtured her; her art, her self-esteem, her creativity. I, on the other hand, _I ran_. And now I wish I hadn’t. Gretchen tried so with me, but I was so focused and single minded that I hardly saw anyone but myself.

Chakotay tugged her to his side, his hand leaving hers to wrap around her shoulders. “Your mother understood that, Kathryn.”

“I know,” She bowed her head in agreement. “But sometimes I wish I could have changed things.”

“What’s that saying Tom used to throw around?”

Kathryn’s alto cracked remembering Tom’s colloquialisms. _“Hindsight’s a bitch?”_

“That’s the one.”

“I miss Tom,” Her voice softened. “I miss B’Elanna, Tuvok, Neelix, Harry – all of them. I miss all of them.”

“Me too,” Chakotay closed his eyes for a moment, imagining all of their faces, what they would be doing now. “I wonder where they are, if they’re safe...”

“I know Tuvok took command,” Kathryn bent down to pick up a maroon leaf to twirl between her fingertips. “Do you think he made Tom his first officer?”

“Probably,” Chakotay chuckled. “Hopefully Harry got that promotion.”

Kathryn leaned against him, causing the pair to stumble on the path in their collective laughter. _“Poor Harry!_ If there was ever an underdog…”

Kathryn remembered the couple and their courtship, the rockiness of it and how frustrated it’d made her at times. But more than that she remembered the beauty of those two people and how Tom changed B’Elanna and how she in turn had moulded him. She remembered how angry B’Elanna was at the start of their journey.  She was a girl with a barely controlled temper. But someone who, as the journey continued, somehow, blossomed into a tender, kind-hearted woman. And then Tom who started off as a flippant playboy with not a shred of respect for anyone, much less himself, but somehow became a gentleman and even a friend. “I hope they’re happy.”

“They are,” He promised her. “Like us.”

She nodded as they rounded the house. “Do you have to go to the school today?”

“No.  The kids have their midterms so no soccer until next week, which is really silly because we have one day of practice and then we have a three days off plus the weekend for Thanksgiving.”

“Mm,” A wicked leer crinkled the corners of Kathryn’s eyes. “I could think of a few things we could do with that time off.”

“You’re right,” He wasn’t paying attention. “The paint’s dried in the nursery, so we need to set up the-“ A tug on his hand brought him face to face with a telling frown, which consequently drew a smile on face. “ _Oh_. You weren’t. talking. _about._ the. house.”

“No,” Kathryn dissolved into laughter. “But now that you mention it, we need to hang the artwork in the living room and the mirrors in the bathroom. Then we need to unbox the gifts we got from the baby shower and the rest of the boxes from Gregg and Jan’s storage, and…”

“Well what about,” He nodded suggestively toward the house. “The _other stuff.”_

“Oh that?” Her hand met the centre of his chest as she brushed past him. “Well now you missed your chance. That’ll have to wait.”

The scowl that lit his face brought a round of laughter to her eyes.  "I'm excited to see what the kids' artwork will look like in the house." 

"I'm glad we got it framed." 

"And for a good price," She told him.  "We'll have trouble finding wall space for it all." 

"That we will. _So,_ " He jiggled the door and cracked it open. "Where should we begin?" 


	138. Chapter 138

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, still for your lovely words and kind feedback!

Kathryn's lips twisted in a half smirk as she tackled the first of the boxes lay in the doorway. "I _told_ her not to give us so much."

"Who, Jan? You know she never listens," Chakotay laughed his retort as he brushed past her. "Any preference on where we put these?"

"Yes," Kathryn looked up from the box's contents. "With Jamie's painting of the lakeside, I thought that would go in the hallway next to Kayla's bird. And," She looked around the hallway where several paintings already hung. "Mary's caterpillar can go at the head of the stairs."

Chakotay examined the beautiful paintings the campers had left them. There were nearly a hundred now in total. And they'd framed each and every one of them for the preciousness they represented. "We'll have a whole gallery pretty soon!"  Some of them were of Kathryn, or Chakotay, and some of them together. There were a few of the camp, the lake, bugs, birds, trees and leaves, and the sunsets. Most of the campers had taken theirs home, but on their last days, many of them had shyly presented them to Kathryn as a gift.  

"Just imagine what we'll get this year. The walls will start crumbling at the weight of them!"

"Well," Chakotay pulled a nail out of his pocket, anchoring it before he committed to the hammer. "With all the pots, paintings, and sculptures, I'd say we're hardly short on decorations if that's any consolation."

"Good thing," Kathryn laughed over the noise of the tools as she resumed her foray, sorting through Jan's boxes. "I was hoping our home wouldn't end up as _drab_ as the shelter on New Earth."

"I _did_ offer you a colour scheme if you remember."

 _"Oh_ that's right: beige or grey. Not much of a choice, thank you very much! Now," Kathryn admired his work after he'd hung the art. "That does look nice. I thought we'd order them by theme, but this works out much nicer."

"The colours are nice," Chakotay stepped back and admired the long entryway nearly covered in staggered array of vibrant paintings. "We'll hang the rest going up the stairs."

"Don't forget about the ones Jan gave us.  If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was just using us to clean out hers and Gregg's storage locker!"

"I'm not complaining.  They're only too happy to give it away and I'm never one to refuse hand me downs, especially when they're as nice as these."

"Agreed," Kathryn dug a little deeper, finding things she'd never seen before: bulky rectangular items sheathed in a thick blend of paper - films, perhaps, she judged by the titles. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

"No," He came up behind her to examine the item in question before digging into the box and uncovering a bulky black device of some sort. "I think they go in this."

"What do you do with it?"

"I assume they're movies.  You know, to watch on the television. Maybe I can figure out how it works and we can watch one of them."

"The kids loved those, what were they called?" She tried to remember. _"D-V-Ds?"_

"Mm," Chakotay opened one of the other boxes. "Like Tom's holomovies. There seem to be more of them in here." He moved the box aside, kneeing it into the living room before tackling another. "And this one seems to be full of china."

Kathryn peered in by his side. "More dishes and serving plates," Her fingers traced the beautiful long serve ware decorated in a blue pattern with pastoral panoramas. "We can use it for Thanksgiving dinner. There's plenty of room in the kitchen cabinets and the pantry. We'll find _somewhere_ for it all!"

"Neelix would have a field day with all of this."

Kathryn chuckled. "He'd probably _know_ what to _do_ with it."

"Do you still want the sand painting over the bed?"

"Yes. Next to my painting of the lake. I like the way they look together," She laughed at herself.  "I sound like Phoebe."  

"Your eyes light up when you talk about art, Kathryn. They always did back when you spent time in Davinci's workshop. I remember how excited you used to get." He moved to her side and kissed her cheek. "Maybe you're _more_ like your sister than you like to let on."

"Phoebe and I were never alike. From the way we talked, to the way we looked you'd never know we were even related." She tried for a smile as she closed her eyes and hastened to remember the girl, _the woman_ , she called her sister. She found now, with a tinge of sadness that her picture was slow to foment to the forefront of her mind.  "I'm starting to _forget her,_ Chakotay. Her _face_ , her _eyes_ , her _voice_. Now, I think if she and I were to pass one another on the street, even if our eyes met, we'd be total strangers. I've always known that relationships have to be nurtured. People strengthen their bond by growing together. And so much of our lives were spent apart. But I think," Kathryn sighed. "It's much better this way."

Chakotay's hand lay on her lower back, rubbing in small circles, soothing. "Why do you say that?"

"It's been eleven months since we went disappeared. Tuvok has told Starfleet via Pathfinder that we went missing, that we're dead, or _missing_. Our families have been notified, and for a few months they grieved, but eventually moved on. Now, we're nothing more than a framed holo image on a mantle, people they think of fondly from time to time. And somehow I like that thought so much more than the notion of them wondering about our whereabouts, or our safety, always worrying and waiting to hear from us..."

"Are you really relieved, or do you just say that to comfort yourself?"

She stepped back to look at him properly. "No, I am. We can live our life, however long or short it is, free from the expectations of others. Sometimes, I think that to go back to Earth in our own time like we were headed back on the ship would have been too hard. Seventy years is a _long time._  My mother would have been dead regardless, and Phoebe would have been an old woman just like myself. That's no way to pick up a relationship, not after you've missed the greater portion of each other's lives."

Chakotay nodded and took a seat on the stairwell, signalling for his wife to join him.  Memories of his sister were often fragmented. He remembered her hair, the contours of her face, and the way she said his name. But so much of her life had been lost on him until this past year when he'd heard from her in Starfleet's data stream. She had married and made him an uncle several times over. Chakotay's heart had ached when he'd received that message.  He had ached for the things he'd never experience: watching his nieces and nephews grow up, nurturing them, teaching them about their people. "When I heard from my sister in the last data stream," A smile grew at the memory of that letter's reception. "My heart was bounding in my chest with every word that she'd written. But she has her own _life_ now, her own family. She's happy, _safe_ , and that's all I ever wanted for her." He let a silence pass before he got up and tugged at her hand, pulling her up the stairs. "Come. I have something to show you."

She smirked and asked her inured question."Did you build me a bathtub?" 

"No. Not quite."

More frames lined the long hallway leading to the last door on the right, the nursery, which, grudgingly, Kathryn hadn't spent _nearly_ enough time decorating since it had been painted the week before. "While you were at Jan's the other day, before I left for the school," He opened the door to the little room. "I set up the crib, _and..._ "

Her breath caught with the work he'd done. More pictures hung on the wall: more gifts from the campers- all the dozens and dozens of little scribbles and paintings they had done of the baby.  She'd been flooded with questions during each circuit. Little girls liked to put their hands on her belly, half expecting the baby to kick on command. Over and over again, she'd been peppered with stories of their brothers and sisters, and lathered with a multiplicity questions about what it was like to be a mommy. " _Oh, Chakotay,_ " Her hands ran over the smooth lacquered craftsmanship of the crib he constructed. "This is beautiful."

"I like their name choices," He laughed at the stick figure baby who donned the monicker _'BaBy CHaKotaY',_ and another just called _'zebra'._

"I think that was Alice." Soon after the little girl's arrival, they'd started calling her Shirley Temple because of her bright personality and kind disposition. She hadn't lived long past the summer. Two weeks ago, her parents had written and told them of Alice's passing. They told them of how much the camp had changed her life, had given her something she'd never gotten all her time in the hospital: the chance to simply _be_ a _kid._

"I remember that week. Was that the last circuit?"

"Second to last," Kathryn reminded him. "This is work I never saw myself doing. Can you imagine?" She laughed. "Kathryn Janeway, renown Starfleet Captain turned twenty first century camp manager?"

"Yes," His fingers resumed drawing little circles on her back. "And somehow, stupidly, it _suits_ you."

"I know," Her eyes darted around the beautiful room filled to the brim with treasured memories, but just begging for even more. "And now I can't see myself doing anything else."


	139. Chapter 139

“So,” Mike snuffled and cleared his throat. “You and Kathryn all set for winter?”

This year Indiana’s transition through fall to winter was brief. The air had turned dry, and that newly familiar smell of snow beckoned with each passage of heavy, grey clouds. Within a matter of weeks all the trees had lost their leaves to colour the patchy ground.

“With the house, you mean?” Chakotay peered over the woodcutter at his friend. “I think so.”

“Did Jim ever come by to look at the heating?”

“A week ago,” Chakotay remembered and huffed a wry laugh. “Yeah, we paid for the oil.  Hopefully next year we can switch to electric. But the house is so old that he thinks that might not even be possible unless we re-wired the whole thing. More money that I _don’t_ have…”

Mike grinned and contemplatively scratched the whiskers on his chin. “I think you two managed to buy the oldest house in Arcadia. Next thing you know, the historical society’s gonna come by and ask to place a plaque near the front door.”

The thought made Chakotay smile. “That might be interesting, but I doubt they’d pay any mind to a dilapidated house in central Indiana.”

“Hey,” His friend’s shoulders shrugged while he scanned the tools in front of him. “You _never_ know. So what are you and Kathryn doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Chakotay dipped his pant brush in the pungent shellac and began running it over the freshly sanded wood piece. “We’re having it at our place. Kathryn wants a big get together this year.”

“Oh?” Mike took to sanding a block of his own. “Who’s coming?”

“Ann and Andrew Stevens, Jan, Gregg, and a few friends from Portage Creek. Are you, Ginny, and the kids free?”

Mike laughed and caught his friend’s smiling eye. “I wasn’t angling, Chakotay.”

“I didn’t think you were.  But we’d love to have you there. Our friends from Portage Creek, Shannon and Henry, have two kids so Brian and Liz would have someone to talk to.” He tried his best to be persuasive. “Come on, it’d be fun.”

“Is Kathryn cooking?”

Chakotay laughed when he heard the squeamishness in Mike’s question. “No. Jan’s prophylactically barred her from touching the food until she eats it.”

“I’ll run it by Ginny,” Mike paused his train of thought for a moment while he ran the woodcutter. “But I’d love to join you. I know the kids would too, _and_ Ginny. You sure you’ve got enough room? Twelve people, that’s quite a party.”

“We’ll have plenty of food, and it wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re our friends, our family now. And _yes,_ remember we kept the old Moss table. The thing sits fifteen when we pull it out.”

“Well all right you’ve convinced me. I’ll run it by Ginny when I get home tonight and give you a text. Think the baby’ll stay put through to Thanksgiving?”

“Not sure,” Chakotay shrugged off his gloves and wiped his nose, stepping away from the open paint can. “We’re certainly more than ready now. I think Kathryn’s getting a little restless.”

“Ginny was the same way. After Brian and Liz were born, she’d had it. Said she couldn’t stand the weight gain, the mood swings, the nausea.  But I think she was biased. Everything’s a little more severe with twins.”

“Kathryn hasn’t complained too much,” Chakotay tried to remember the past eight and a half months. “If anything, I think she’s felt better. You know, minus the early nausea and how often she bumps into things.”

Mike chuckled at the image of Kathryn bumping into doorways. “She certainly hasn’t gained as much weight as Ginny did! Oh I remember those days! She had me out at three AM buying her ice cream, cookies, cereal, the works. I mean I was surprised. When she and I were dating, and even when we first got married, the woman hardly ate anything. But then there she was putting away more than I could!”

“Kathryn’s always been petite.  I don’t think that will ever change. I was a little worried at first because I thought she should’ve been gaining more but…” He shrugged. "What do I know?" 

“How’s the chair coming?”

“Not bad,” Chakotay examined the parts in front of him. He’d measured them to the exact specification, now all he had to do was assemble the pieces. “I’ll wait until morning for the shellac to dry and then try and piece it together.”

“Well you definitely picked an ambitious project,” Mike scanned the parts Chakotay had laid out as well as the tattered schematic on the workbench.

Chakotay rubbed his neck and blew out a long breath. “I’ve enjoyed it. This, and the crib,” He listed on one hand. “Our bed.”

“That’s quite a few. And not one of them small projects.”

“Soon enough I won’t have the time to malinger out here.  Not with work and a new baby.”

Mike chortled again. “Malinger _isn’t_ necessarily the word I’d choose.”

“Well whatever it is,” A frigid gust blew through the open shed doors, drawing their attention to the near pitch-black evening sky. “I can’t see myself having as much time for it.”

Mike drew another breath and zipped up his coat before collecting the long wooly scarf hanging over the chair. “Ginny hates it, but I love winter when it gets dark early.”

“I like it, too,” Chakotay stepped out and glanced over at the house. Most of the lights were off bar the ones in the kitchen and living room. He could imagine Kathryn hunched over the computer, cradling a mug of hot tea while she caught up on work. Or maybe she was in the living room, rearranging the shelves again. Jan called it nesting, how Kathryn was making a home for them and their child. “I love seeing the stars from here,” He spoke without thinking, caught up in the delight simply of being and seeing the world from this angle.

Mike looked at him quizzically, catching his gaffe. “As opposed to where?”

“The city,” Chakotay covered and looked away, remembering quickly that amid the lights in San Francisco that it was impossible to see the bright speckles that lit the night sky. “It’s just different here.  You can see them so clearly.”

A warm hand grabbed him by the shoulder. “You’re a mystery, my friend. A _damned_ mystery.”

“So you’ll talk to Ginny,” Chakotay reminded him.

“Sure you don’t want to run that by Kathryn?”

“I know she’d be thrilled if you came.” 

“I’ll ask, though I don’t think she’ll say no. Having the year off from cooking Thanksgiving dinner would nearly be an early Christmas present!”

“Well it’s settled then,” Chakotay shook his friend’s hand as they rounded his car, saying goodnight before he turned back to the house.

The house felt warm, even smelled warm, something like cinnamon. _“Kathryn?”_

 _“In the dining room,”_ He heard her call as he threw his coat onto the rack and shimmied out of his boots. The accustomedness of the site in front of him drew out smile lines and dimples; she was exactly where he’d predicted. “What are you smiling at?”

“You,” He walked over and kissed her cheek before settling in the adjacent chair. “I was just thinking that this was where you’d be.”

She closed the computer, shoving it and the folders in front of her away to focus on him. “Are you saying I’m predictable?”

“No,” He shook his head, reaching for her tea. _“Never_ that.”

 _“Hey!”_ She protested but let him take her mug with no resistance. “I just made that.”

The hot mug felt scalding on his frozen fingertips as he took a sip. “I’ll make you another one,” He winked.

“Just as well,” She rubbed her eyes and yawned as she sat back against the wooden back of the chair. “I’ll be up all night if I drink it.”

“Is she kicking at your bladder again?”

 _“Again?”_ Kathryn peered at him through her fingers. “She never stopped! And here I am, about to risk dehydration just to put a stop to the endless bathroom trips!”

He chuckled as his hand rested on her belly, feeling the slight movements of their baby girl. “Soon.”

Her hand rested on his and he curled their fingers together. “You know, I think I’ll miss it.”

“Being pregnant?”

“Mmhm. As much as I’ve whined, I’ve enjoyed feeling her grow, carrying her, talking to her…”

“Well,” Chakotay’s eyes sparkled with the implication. “You know this doesn’t have to be a _one-time-only.”_

“Somehow,” He felt her stomach move in the guffaw. “ I knew that’s where your mind would go!”

He sat for a moment to simply look at her in the dimmed light of the room. Her hair was long now, nearly as long as it had been before she cut it. It hung around her shoulders, soft, framing her face. _“What?”_ She ran her thumb softly over his, a gesture endemic to the both of them.

“Nothing,” He shook his head, smiling. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

She turned her head and returned his grin, gripping his hand a little tighter. “What were you doing with Mike? And _don’t_ tell me it’s a secret.”

“I’m building something for you,” He stood and took her other hand to pull her up.

She looked up at him, her face a study of inquiry.“Something else? What?” 

“A rocking chair,” He relented, turning the lights off in the dining room as they made their way into the den. “For the nursery.”

Kathryn let out a breath, reaching up to kiss his neck as they found their way onto the sofa. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” He thought of all the work that still had to be done. “It’s not finished. It might well turn out to be a disaster.”

“Doubtful,” She leaned away from him and propped her back against the soft arm of the couch as he pulled her legs into his lap. “Oh…” She smiled as firm fingers started their nightly foray along her lower legs.

“I invited Mike and Ginny and the kids for Thanksgiving.”

“Good,” She closed her eyes as a serene smile lit tired features. “You know I used to hate parties. But ever since the baby shower and being with everyone, enjoying their company. It was nice. I think I’d forgotten how to be around people like that.”

He rubbed a little deeper, drawing another sigh of delight.v“They’re good people.” 

Fast falling asleep, Kathryn nodded slightly.

 _“Hey,_ ” Chakotay nudged her, rousing drowsy, glassy eyes to regard him. “Let’s go to bed.”

She gave a tired grin and began to close her eyes again. “I’m comfortable here.” 

 _“Uh unh,”_ He pulled her up, laying a kiss on the side of her forehead as he guided her off the couch. “Maybe you are right now, but tomorrow your back will hate you.”

She yawned, her hand hitting the light switch on the wall as they walked past and made their way up the stairs to their bedroom. “It _already hates_ me…”

“Jan called and said she’d come by tomorrow with the frozen turkey if we had room in the fridge,” Chakotay prattled around the room, looking for his discarded sweatpants and nightshirt. “I told her that I’d clear a space. She also asked if Ann called you about the yams and-“ He stopped when heard a snore from behind and what he saw drew a large smile: Kathryn had fallen asleep just as her head hit the pillow.

Shrugging on his sweatshirt, he pattered over and arranged the blankets around her until she was practically cocooned, untouched by the nippy bedroom air. With on last kiss to her forehead, he climbed in beside her and happily wrapped himself around her body. _“Goodnight Kathryn.”_


	140. Chapter 140

“Kathryn?”  Jan’s voice echoed in the hallway as she shoved the door closed behind her.  “Are you home?”

 _“I’m upstairs,”_ A voice echoed in response. _“I’ll be right down!”_

Jan hummed her way into the warm kitchen, grinning at the mess of dishes and mugs piled in the old fashioned sink as she laid her hefty bundles down on the island.  Even the ten steps from the car to the door had taken a toll on her shoulder, the damn turkey weighing at least twenty-five pounds.   _Or_ so she was _promised_ by the butcher.  

She laughed to herself as she wandered around the kitchen, spotting bits and bobs of a life that she’d forgotten over the years.  There was her grandmother’s Betty Crocker cookbook, the very one she’d learned from all those years ago.  Sitting next to that on the shelf was a well earmarked gift she’d given Kathryn after she’d gotten married: _Slow Cookers for Dummies_.  She and Gregg had literally given the young couple _everything_ from the well-used unit on the outskirts of town.  For years they’d been scheming over what to do with it.  Gregg bemoaned his wife, saying that they should just get rid of it all. But Jan was too much of a sentimentalist, insisting that they should keep it “ _just in case_.”    

“Good morning,” Kathryn waddled into the kitchen wearing one of her husband's oversized shirts.  “So. What do you think?” 

“It’s perfect,” Jan eased herself down into one of the kitchen chairs.  “You’ve taken all our treasures and made them your own.”

“Thank you, Jan, for everything.  You and Gregg have been unimaginably good to us.” 

 _“Oh, hush!_ ” Jan grinned back, sliding her glasses off her nose and rubbing tired eyes.  “I was just thinking you and Chakotay were our fortune.  You're our little legacy.” 

“Oh? How’s that?” 

“Well who else were we going to give all this to? I’ve always felt guilty about not giving Gregg and I the chance to be parents. Gregg would have been a _wonderful_ father.  He’s so kind and good.  But,” She shrugged, her hands falling loudly against her thighs in emphasis. “It wasn’t in the stars for us, and we’ve been more than lucky each year with the kids from the camp. But they always leave.”

Kathryn studied the woman who had more than robustly filled the roll of her mother and even her sister at times. “We’re honoured, Jan. You and Gregg gave us a life here without asking for any explanation.  You _trusted_ us when maybe you shouldn’t have, surely when no one else would have.”  

“Who you were before you came here is none of my business.  What matters to me is who you are _here_ , who you’ve _become._ Everyone has a past, things they’d like to forget, or even just some circumstances that can’t be helped.”  

Tears bit at Kathryn’s eyes in reflection on Jan's abounding tenderness. “There are so many things I wish I could tell you, Jan. But some things are best left forgotten.” 

“Well, that’s all right then. Just as long as you’re done forgetting, ” A warm hand wiped away the solemn tear that meandered down her cheek.  “Just as long as _you’ll stay.”_   

Kathryn nodded, a smile breaking through amid the wetness gathering under her nose.  “You’d have a hard time getting rid of us.”

“Well good,” Jan turned her attention to the overstuffed canvass bags on the island. “Now, do you think we’ll have enough food for Thursday?” 

 _“Too much_. Ann’s insisted on bringing the yams, roasted brussel sprouts, and the winter squash.” 

Jan nearly salivated at the thought. “All from her garden, no less!” 

“Chakotay invited Mike and Ginny with their two kids.  Ginny called me this morning all excited, promising she’d bring the pies.”   

“Oh good,” Jan sighed as she opened the fridge door, placing the lourdy turkey on the bottom shelf. “Ginny’s pies are to _die for._ She wins the blue ribbon every year.  Baking housewives across the state _hate_ her.” 

Kathryn played herself up off the chair to lend Jan a hand.  “I don’t doubt it.”  

“Where did Chakotay run off to this morning? It seems a little cold out for soccer.”  

“Jeff Higgins called him the other day and said he wanted to talk.” 

“What about?”

Kathryn shrugged. “He didn’t say, but Chakotay's been worried about it all morning. I hope it’s not bad news, not this close to the baby being born. I don’t know why it’d be bad news. The children love him, he’s-“

 _“Kathryn,”_ She frowned.  “I’m sure _it’s fine.”_

“I’m sure you’re right,” Kathryn huffed, finding the humour enough to laugh at herself.  “I’m not always this unglued, I assure you.”   

“You’re near your due date,” Jan permitted, returning to the mess on the counter.  “You’re allowed.  Now, on Thursday I’ll come over early and start the turkey.” 

“Chakotay is eager to help with the stuffing.  He’s been reading all about Thanksgiving recipes in that cookbook,” She pointed to the shelf over the counter.  “The Betty Crocker one.”

“Well he and I’ll have a date. I’ve used that cookbook more times than I can count.  It was my Grandmother’s, you know.” 

“I didn’t,” Kathryn smiled wistfully. “He’s been reading it _religiously_. I like the what's hidden in the pages, all the old notecards, coupons, and newspaper clippings.” She took the book down and flipped through it.  “I recognised your handwriting in the margins, all the tagged pages.  How come it’s not in your kitchen?” 

Jan shrugged and ran her fingers over the old pages.  “I stopped using it. Forgot about it.”

“Do you want it back?”

“No,” The older woman laughed and kissed Kathryn’s cheek.  “You enjoy it. I used it for Gregg’s and my first Thanksgiving.  Now we’ll use it for yours.  I’ll leave all this on the counter.  The vegetables don’t need to take up room in the fridge.” 

Kathryn’s hand went to her belly where the baby was moving.“That’s fine.” 

“Is she making a fuss?" 

“Mmm. She’s gotten more and more active in the recent weeks.” 

“She’s itching to see the world,” Jan’s hands moved to Kathryn’s belly to feel.  

“Sometimes Chakotay sings to her and she quiets.  Even when he _just talks_ to her.” Kathryn conjured the sound of his voice, the feeling on his hand moving in small circles on her distended belly, soothing, comforting.

Jan reached into the cabinet and took down a blend of her and Kathryn’s favourite tea. “He’ll be a good father.”

“I’ve always thought that.  There’s such gentleness to him. He was so wonderful with the kids at the camp this summer, and even the teenagers at the school.”

“You are too, Kathryn,” Jan prompted as she took the kettle off the hot stove; pouring the water into the mugs she’d laid out.  “Sometimes I don’t think you give yourself nearly enough credit.” 

“Thank you,” Kathryn cradled the mug that was handed to her and nodded her head towards the living room. “You know I never thought I would be a mother.  For a long time I never wanted children.  In my late twenties, I was engaged to a man named Mark.  He and I decided that we didn’t want children. They didn’t fit into our life. And for a long while, _most_ of our engagement, I was just fine with that.” 

Nestled against the sofa's soft back, Jan listened silently.  “But then I met Chakotay,” Kathryn closed her eyes, lips curling into a placid smile. “And suddenly  _fat brown babies_ were all I wanted!”

“Well _I_ for one _can’t wait_ until she gets here! I’m going to spoil her rotten.  She’ll get away with absolute _murder_.” 

“You already spoil us,” Kathryn chuckled over her tea.  “I _shudder_ to think what’s in store.” 

“Mmm,” Jan looked around and changed the subject. “I love this home, Kathryn, and what you two have done to it.  All the paintings and little sculptures from the children at the camp - it’s all so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn’s voice was jagged after a quick swallow of hot tea.  Her eyes followed Jan’s as she looked around the room. “It was Chakotay’s idea to frame them.”

“Well it’s perfect. I think the kids would be so excited that you have them on your wall.” 

“All of them.  We kept _everything_ : all the little bowls, misshapen clay animals…” Laughing, she indicated to the shelf behind the television set.  “Every single piece.”  

“Just think of the bounty you’ll collect _this_ year!” Jan winked.  

“That’s what Chakotay said.  He said soon we’d have enough to open a gallery!”   

Grinning, Jan looked down at her wristwatch.  “ _Oh_ , Kathryn, I’d better get going soon.  I didn’t have any patients this morning but I have at least twenty coming in about an hour, and _new patients_ no less, which I _hate_ especially in my line of work at this time of year.” 

Kathryn doled a supportive look as Jan gave her a hand off the couch.  “So, are we set for Thursday?” 

“I think so,” Jan rinsed out her mug and lay in to dry on the rack.  “You know after the success of this year’s camp season and all the funding and publicity we’ve gotten, more students want to apply. Or at least, that’s the word on the street.”

“I _wondered_ why I’d already gotten over a hundred applications for counsellors…”  

“It wouldn’t have happened without you, Kathryn.  You and Chakotay changed our lives.  And not only ours, but also each and every child and family that came this summer.” 

“Thank you, Jan,” Kathryn followed her to the door.  “But you and Gregg are the ones who _changed_ our life.” 

“Well,” With one foot out the door, Jan laid a quick kiss to her cheek.  “I’ll see you soon.  Don’t worry about doing anything with the turkey, just let it thaw.  Same with the Tofurkey. Did one of those boxes I dropped off have the Thanksgiving decorations in it?”

The mention of the Tofurky made Kathryn giggle as she pulled Chakotay’s oversized shirt tighter around her. “Yes, it’s in the pantry.” 

“Good.  I stole those from the hospital one year. Fingers crossed Gregg doesn’t recognise them!”

“I’ll see you later, Jan, and thanks for the visit.” 

 _“Any time!”_   She pattered off into the truck, but stopped, rolling her eyes when realised she’d forgotten her purse only to see Kathryn holding it out to her with a wide grin.  “What would I do without you? You know, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body! _I'll see you later, Kathryn!_ ”


	141. Chapter 141

The door opened, letting in a cool gust of November wind just as he was making his way down stairs, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning, Jan.” He smiled amiably at his friend as she closed the door behind her.

“Good morning,” Jan said softly. “Is Kathryn still asleep?”

He nodded, taking two heavy canvass bags off her shoulders. _“Finally.”_

She rubbed sore shoulders, her voice graduating an octave as they sauntered into the morning-cold kitchen.“Rough night?” 

Outside the windows the dew had settled and frozen as the temperatures dropped overnight. Throughout the house, each pane of glass was sprinkled stunningly in icy patterns that drew out his wonder when he examined them more closely and determined the mesmerisingly unique imprints of thousands of infinitesimally tiny snowflakes. “You could say that. The baby’s been keeping her up, moving this way and that. We’ve tried everything,” He smiled. “But she _just_ won’t calm down.”

“I told Kathryn yesterday that she’s just anxious and ready to _see the world!_ ” Jan opened the fridge door and manoeuvred the enormous bird onto the counter as she scanned the breadth of their bounty. “Do you think we’ll have enough food?” 

“I’d say so,” Chakotay chuckled as he took his favourite cookbook down from the shelf. “We’ll certainly be sending everyone home with leftovers.”

“I’d say you’re right. _Oh!_ I’ll be right back. I left the baking tray in the truck.”

“Okay,” Chakotay’s attention was taken by the cookbook. “I’ll start cutting the bread for the stuffing.” All week Chakotay had been looking forward to today. These holidays were still something new to him. Since autumn set in, he’d savoured the pomp and circumstance that had begun just before Halloween. Stores took on a new life as merchandise reached into the realm of the weird and the wonderful. Even the very _air_ at the school had changed as the students were anticipatory, talking about how excited they were for the festivities.

So intent was he on his assignment that he hardly noticed the pattering of Jan’s footsteps as she made her way back into the kitchen. “Are you all set there?”

He gave a smile and nodded his head. “Yes, just getting ready to make the stuffing.”

“Kathryn tells me you’ve been enjoying that cookbook.”

“I have. I’ve always liked cooking, but I don’t think I’ve ever read a cook book before. Most of what I learned was either taught by my mother, or I picked up out of necessity.”

Jan listened intently to his soft voice over the din she was making with the turkey. “That’s usually the way it goes.  At least that’s the way it was for me. I remember pouring over that very book, being fascinated by the recipes, wanting to make absolutely everything just like that girl from the movie.”

“Which movie was that?”

“We have the DVD at home,” She tried to remember the name. “Something about Julia. Julianne and Julia? No, _Julie and Julia!_ Anyhow, it’s about a young woman who takes a year and endeavours to cook her way through each and every recipe in Julia Child’s _Mastering the Art of French Cooking.”_

“Sounds ambitious,” He smiled at her over his task. “Did she succeed?”

“She did,” Jan fished the innards out of the turkey. “Oh, now I want to see that movie again! I’ll lend it to you.”

“I set up your old, what’s it called?” Chakotay tried to visualize the three-digit acronym on the black box. “V-H-S player. We have all the movies you had in the unit.”

 _“The VHS player!_ ” Jan almost fell on the bird in her laughter. “Was that in there?”

“That and what must be over ninety films. Go look in the living room,” He nodded outside the kitchen. “We’ve a whole library now!”

 _“Oh, my!”_ Jan wiped tears of laughter away with the back of her wrist. “I can’t believe I saved all of those. You know, they don’t even make VHS tapes anymore and that television is just as old.”

“That’s all right,” Chakotay shook his head, still intent on his panoply of ingredients. “To be honest, we haven’t even had time to try it out.”

“You and Kathryn never struck me as the _TV type_ ,” She glanced back at him to spot the garbage can. “Gregg and I aren’t either. I don’t know why we have that monstrosity in our living room, but Greggory insisted on it. And you know, we hardly ever use the damn thing. It just takes up wall space!”

“It is nice, though,” He conceded. “It’s just, you’re right, we don’t watch much of anything. We never have. Kathryn’s always preferred reading, and over the years I suppose I’ve copped on.”

“It’s just as well. Most of what comes out these days isn't worth watching. Chakotay, would you mind rolling my sleeves a little higher. I’m nearly getting turkey juice on them!”

He relinquished his knife and tugged on the fabric. “Better?”

“Much,” She tentatively sniffled into the back of her hand. “Somehow, like clockwork, my nose always starts to itch the moment I’m not able to do anything about it – like having my arms _elbow deep_ in turkey meat!”

“It happens to everyone,” He chuckled.

“Oh, and would you mind setting the oven to three fifty?”

“Sure.”

“Good man, thank you. Kathryn said you had a meeting with Jeff Higgins. She was all worried about it.”

 _“I_ was all worried about it,” He remembered agonising all yesterday morning. “I thought he was going to fire me and I had no idea why!”

 _“But?”_ Jan prodded. “He didn’t.”

“No,” Chakotay let out a grateful breath and shook his head. “He wanted to talk about expanding the sports programme and he offered me a pay raise.”

“Chakotay!” Jan turned jubilantly to regard her friend. “I’d hug you right now if I wasn’t absolutely covered in turkey juice! That’s wonderful.”

“Thank you, Jan. I was so relieved that I called Kathryn as soon as I left his office. I couldn’t wait to tell her.”

“She must have been happy.” 

“She was. But afterwards I felt bad for worrying her so much, especially now with everything so close.”

“Don’t say that,” She scolded lovingly. “That’s the purpose of marriage: to share one another’s concerns. I’ll tell you, even after all the years Gregg and I have been married we still worry about one another, just like you two do. It never gets any easier.”

“I know,” Chakotay sounded his placid agreement as he disappeared into the pantry to recover the onions. “But Kathryn is a different kind of worrier For the years that I knew her before we were married she practically made it her _full-time_ job. And I made a promise to her early on: that I would carry her burdens and make them lighter. But somehow, even after all these years, I still don’t think I’ve done a good enough job. ”

Jan stopped what she was doing just and turned to the kind man adjacent her. Her features were open and soft as she regarded him, pondering his gentle humanity. “ _You two,_ ” She smiled. “I told Kathryn yesterday that she doesn’t give herself enough credit. But _you’re_ just as _bad!_ You know, I was thinking about you two the other day.  Just about how far you’ve come not only as people but as a couple in the past year.”

 _“Oh?”_ He wondered, his nose running and eyes tearing at the sting of the onions as he diced them into perfect squares.

The tears were not lost on Jan as she remembered something her mother used to do. “Do you have any candles?”

“In the pantry,” He snuffled and went to wipe his eyes. “Matches are in the drawer next to the forks and knives. Why?”

“Old trick,” Jan scurried back into the kitchen with the candle in question and lit a match almost as fast. “The flame helps lessen the burn of the onions.”

 _“Oh.”_ He walked away and wiped his eyes in a kitchen towel before turning back to the onions. “Thank you.”

“No, I was just thinking,” Jan spoke over the sound of the running water as she scrubbed her hands clean. “I remember almost a year ago now, the way you were was so different to how you are now.”

“Things weren’t easy between us then. From the beginning, our relationship had never been easy and so many things happened over the years we were friends. Most of them were things that separated us with anger and bitterness towards one another.”

“Being _just_ friends is never easy when you’re in love with one another.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder as she copied his task on the counter, placing the onion halves inside the bird.“How did you know?” 

“What? That you two were in love with one another?” Jan couldn’t stifle the chuckle that escaped her at his mock coyness. “An _old woman knows_ these things.”

“I guess my love for Kathryn has never been a secret, as much as I think it made her uncomfortable at times.”

“The problem with Kathryn is that she's just _plain stubborn_ ,” Jan’s voice was strained as she cut decisively through the last bit of the hefty stock of onion, carrots and celery before she began on the garlic cloves. “She didn’t want to _need anyone_ like she needed you.  But _she did_ and that ate at her until she was sensible enough to see reason. Trust me,” Jan pointed the knife at him. “An _old woman_ knows these things.”

“If you say so. So,” Laughing, he shifted the conversation. “How are we going to work the oven schedule?”

“Like what’s going in when? Well, the turkey’s going to be in there nearly all day until dinner. I think I bought the largest damn bird in Indiana! It’s going to need at least six hours, if not seven. The Tofurky will only be about three so we’ll put that in around one or two.  And everything else we can rotate and then just heat it up before we sit down to eat. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds great.” 

Jan opened the door to the oven as she strained with the cumbersome tray. “I'll throw this in now. ” 

 _“Here_ , Jan,” He saw disaster just out the corner of his eye and caught her just before it struck. “I’ll get it.”

“Thank you,” She wiped the tiny bead of sweat that’d formed. “You know if that had dropped I would have invoked the five second plus rule and sworn you to secrecy under threat of torture and death.”

“Five second rule?” 

Jan raised in finger in a feigned haughty air of scholarly pedagogy. “A few stray bacteria are _good_ for the immune system!”

"Well," He laughed. "I suppose you should know."

“I do,” She mock scolded. “A-“

“Let me guess, an old woman knows these things?”

“More like an old doctor. But," She teased.  "Now you’re catching on.”


	142. Chapter 142

A knock at the front door followed by the click of the hinge heralded a new voice, _“Hello! Chakotay, Kathryn?”_

“Ann!” Jan scampered out of the kitchen, keeping her voice low. “We’re in the kitchen.”

 _“Oh!”_ Ann whispered, her eyebrows scrunched up towards her hairline. “Are Chakotay and Kathryn still sleeping?”

“Just Kathryn,” Chakotay smiled as he walked out to greet his friend and take the paper bags from her hands. “This is the latest she’s slept in a long time.”

“It’s only eight o’clock, _hardly_ sleeping in! But somehow, knowing her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she thought that _five thirty_ was a luxury.” Ann’s eyes nearly fell out of her head at the hampered state of the kitchen. “Anyway... I brought all the goodies. Are you sure we’ll have enough room in the kitchen for everything?”

“We should…” Chakotay scanned the piles, turning his head this way and that. “Or we’ll try anyway. Where’s Andrew?”

“He was still sleeping when I left,” She smiled. “He got in late last night from New York.”

 _“Oh?”_ Jan looked up from the timer she was setting. “New York?”

“Business trip,” Ann set to work on the squash she’d brought. “One of our good friends from college has his own adversitising firm and he’s doing a little work on behalf of the farm. So Andrew left on Sunday to meet with him. Personally, I don’t mind collaborating over the Internet, but Andrew likes to _be_ there, _see_ things, and touch them for himself.”

“Sounds like Gregg,” Jan said.

“Doesn’t it?” Ann laughed. “Maybe that’s why they’ve gotten on so well. So,” She leaned against the counter and looked at her two cooking companions. “What are we doing?”

“Well,” Chakotay rubbed his neck, giving her a dimpled leer over his mug of coffee. “First, I was going to ask you if you wanted a cup of tea or coffee.”

“Tea,” Jan was making it just as she answered and had the hot mug in her hand just as fast. “Thank you.”

“Well, we’ve got the turkey in the oven,” He pointed. “The stuffing is already mixed and is just sitting in the fridge, and then we were just waiting on you for the vegetable sides.”

“This is going to be quite the feast,” Ann warmed cold hands on the body of her mug as she sat gratefully at the kitchen table with her two friends. “I can’t remember what Andrew and I did last Thanksgiving…”

 _“Oh,”_ Jan patted Ann’s arm. “We have a Tofurky for you, Andrew, and Chakotay.”

“We _love_ Tofurky. I think that’s what we had last year for the first time. Where’d you find it?”

“The health food store over on Madison. It was either that or drive to Carmel for Whole Foods.”

“Driving to Carmel would have been _excessive_ Jan. Though I _do love_ Whole Foods. If I had to tell you one thing I missed about the city, it would be that. But, I haven’t gone to the health food store recently. Can’t believe it’s still in business!”

“Oh _I know_!” Jan pattered over to the oven, opening it slightly to check on the turkey before she basted it. “The owner’s atrocious and the store is so small.”

“So, again, who else is coming today?”

“Well,” Chakotay moved over to his own area on the island as he repeated the list over again. “Mike, Ginny, and their two kids. And then our friends from Portage Creek: Shannon and Henry and their two kids.  Then there's you, me, Andrew, Jan, Gregg, and Kathryn.”

“Quite a crowd!” Ann bubbled excitedly before twisting her features deviously. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Uh,” Chakotay looked up from the tinned bowl of fresh, his face the perfect imitation of a question. “No, what?”

 _“Football.”_  

“Football?”

“We haven’t done that in years, Ann!” Jan stood back from the oven, her face flushed from the heat. “The kids’ll love it!”

“Mike too, no doubt,” Chakotay added with the thought of his burl friend. “Jan, when should I start the relish?”

Jan stood on her tiptoes and peeked over this shoulder. “Now if we want it to be done in time. Are you sure you want to make it from scratch? I brought some canned-“

His laughter cut her off. “ _No canned, Jan._ ” 

“All right, all right!” The older woman’s hands went up in surrender. “But when you stain that nice white shirt, don’t say I didn’t offer you the easy way out.”

“I wanted to ask you, Chakotay,” Ann looked up from the brussel sprouts she was halving on the counter. “Andrew and I wanted to make sure it was okay if he brought the dog along today. We-“

“I think that would be the _highlight_ of Kathryn’s day!”

“I thought so,” Ann huffed a laugh. “I had to watch her the last time she was leaving. I thought she’d steal her!”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Jan shook her head in amusement. “Kathryn is a dog person through and through.”

“I’ve been thinking about getting one for a while now. Maybe after things settle down a bit after the baby we’ll look into it.”

“Make sure it's _while_ after the baby,” Ann cautioned with Jan’s agreement. “Having a new dog, especially a puppy, is almost like having a baby. They’re just as needy! Well at least ours is.”

“That’s what I thought. I’d like to get her an Irish Setter. She had one growing up.”

“Oh, My aunt had one when I was little! She named her Roonie because her coat was nearly a passable maroon. She was great with us kids; never barked at us, always let us pet her, climb all over her,” Ann laughed. “Where’s the trash can?”

“Oh,” Chakotay toed an old fashioned garden pail. “We’re composting the garbage these days.”

“Are you and Kathryn starting a garden?”

“A small one out back. It won’t grow anything now that it’s winter, but nevertheless having less garbage means less trips to the dump.”

“Good man,” Ann winked. “Andrew and I started composting a few years ago. It’s made such a difference in our crop and our costs.”

“We’ve had some experience with gardens, but not a lot with composting.  It's something new for us.” Chakotay remembered New Earth and the teeming crop they’d left behind. For a moment he idly wondered if the whole planet was now abounding with a vibrant crop of Talaxian tomatoes. He could see it in his head: future explorers to the planet, maybe captives ensnared by the same bug that’d captured them. A smile crept onto his features when he thought of the absurdity that would paint their faces when they looked at the odd crops, tasted the tanginess of it. _Just, what would they do with all those tomatoes?_

The team bathed in a pleasurable silence, intermittently dotted by the din of knives chopping against old wooden cutting boards, spoons stirring and scraping the metal mixing bowls, water running from the sink, or the timer beeping. Each of them was peaceful and content to linger on their own thoughts, to revel in the company of friends and the calm that offered before the wonderful business of the afternoon.

Chakotay thought of his wife sleeping upstairs. He’d watched her this morning while his hand smoothed over her tautly stretched belly. Long hair in tangled array, her features had been serene, beautiful. His eyes had traced every single one of her freckles, making lines from one to the other as he followed their scattered trajectory from her cheeks down to her chest. 

Jan’s thoughts lingered on her own list of things she was grateful for. She was grateful that yesterday not one of her patients had been terminal, and that four had reportedly gone into remission. She thought of Gregg, of what he was doing right now. He had to work the morning before one of the residents took over for him in the afternoon. She and Gregg usually spent this day alone together, or working. It had been so long since they’d spent it with family or close friends, but somehow the holiday was still poignant because it was shared together.

Ann passively watched the repetitive movement of her hands on the knife as she considered her own thoughts, which now were a continuous harmonic of the news she’d kept to herself.

“It smells amazing in here,” Jan admired the work each of them was doing. “But I have to say, I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold out until dinner.”

Chakotay’s stomach let out a well-timed growl. “Me neither.”

 _“So,_ ” Ann looked up at her two friends, something devious curling her features. “What does everyone say to _pumpkin griddle cakes?”_

“Well...” Jan looked from one to the other in sneaky rationalisation.

Chakotay turned his head in consideration. “ _Well_ , it _is_ a holiday...”

 _“One,_ ” Ann gestured. “Where gluttony and overeating is accepted. To _not_ make pumpkin griddlecakes for breakfast would nearly be a-“

 _“A sin.”_ Jan admonished in histrionic seriousness moving to the cupboard to get down the flour while Chakotay reached into the fridge for the eggs while Ann started attacking the Tupperware she’d brought with her containing the freshly pureed pumpkin she’d made the night before.

The group laughed together while assembling the ingredients in a harried hassle before the first spoonful of batter hurriedly sizzled in the well-buttered skillet, lending a warm, cinnamon sweetness to the deliciously savoury air.  Over their laughter they barely heard the pitter-patter coming down the stairs until a low, smiling alto cut through the hullabaloo. “Pumpkin pancakes?” Kathryn’s arms stole around her husband’s waist as she said hello to her friends. “Well, this certainly is starting out to be a very happy Thanksgiving.”


	143. Chapter 143

Gregg recognised Andrew’s car and gave him a friendly flash of light as they turner onto Porter Street just before the obscure turn off onto Laurel. The A&E had been quiet that day which was a blessing, but also a curse.  The quiet he enjoyed, quite simply, because it meant that people weren’t getting hurt. On the other side of the coin, though, the quiet left too much time for philosophical contemplation. So, on any given day when the monitors were quiet and the beds were empty, he would read.

His latest digest was a fiction recommendation from a friend, _The Kitchen Boy_ , a novel about the last of the Russian Czars. In college, he’d taken a course in Russian history and language to fill a liberal arts requirement. At the time of enrolment, he’d put little thought into the choice, as it was the only class that meshed with his heavy science schedule. A small class primarily composed of liberal arts majors, Gregg had initially found himself out of place with the nature of the discussions.  He found them highly esoteric and often disjointed, having little practical purpose. But over the length of the semester, he began to enjoy them and the content. And soon enough, his interest in Russia grew and goaded him into Russian language classes.  Now, Gregg was the first one to admit that his skills never honed as still he was only able to generate a fifth grader’s tongue and mastery.  But his appreciation for the culture never abated. 

He grew to appreciate the finer points of Dostoyevsky’s _A Day in the Life_ enough to dabble in the works’ native tongue. Soon, he danced through Pushkin’s poems and tasted the bard’s love and sorrow through each.  And over many weeks he slowly drove through _The Brother’s Karamazov_ and learned their doleful lessons.Jan surprised him one year with a trip to Russia to see the beautiful sight’s he’d only seen in the margins of his textbooks.  For so long he'd fabricated those vistas he read about and dreamed of and so to touch them and give colour to his thoughts was a gift he never forgot.

His petty musings floated away as he came to a stop next to Andrew's station wagon.  _“Andrew!”_ He chuckled as the younger man’s energetic friend jumped up on his haunches and sniffed the older man’s face. "Well hello there, Holden."

 _“Hey, Holden!_ Well, Gregg, it seems as though you’ve made a friend.” 

“Indeed.” The dog’s tongue came out to wet his nose.  _“Oh_ , down you go, boy. How was New York?”

“Good. But I'm glad to be home. I forget how overwhelming the big city is.” 

“Oh you don’t have to remind me!” Gregg chuckled as they trudged towards the front door. “I was in San Fran last week and I couldn’t wait to get back to _sleepy_ Arcadia.” Mouthwatering, savoury-sweet air wafted from the house out into the cold November air as they trudged up the porch steps.  “ _God,_ that smells good!” Gregg’s stomach growled as they opened the door and the echoes of laughter became louder.  

_"Hello!"_

_“Jan?”_ Gregg called. " _Kathryn?"_

 _“In the kitchen!”_ Was the laughed reply, drawing the two men into what must have been the biggest mess they’d ever seen. Nearly every trace of countertop was hidden underneath a messied array of bowls and ingredients mixed with towels and not too few discarded aprons. 

“Hi!” Ann sauntered over to kiss her husband’s cheek.  “Hello, Gregg!”

“Ann,” He smiled and pecked her cheek. “What’s all this?" 

“Well,” Kathryn sat back in the kitchen chair.  “We’ve made delicious pumpkin griddle cakes.  Are you two hungry?” 

Gregg looked from Kathryn to his wife, whose cheeks and hair were dusted in a coating of white flower. To Chakotay whose ruffled, curly hair was hazarded in disarray, accompanying his disheveled trousers and cranberry stained T-shirt. And finally, back to Ann whose messy bun was just a little too messy in addition to her pumpkin stained jeans. “Well,” A huge smile lit his face. “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen this much of a mess before.” 

“I know,” Jan giggled. “We got a little carried away.” 

Andrew shook his head in sheer amusement, not able to rid himself of a huge leer that stretched his handsome features. "We can see that." 

“Well I’d _love_ some pancakes.” Gregg sat himself down next to Kathryn and eyed her with a mock suspicion. “They are _safe_ , aren’t they?”

That earned him a laugh with a light shove to his bicep.  “If you're asking if I made them, you _terrible man_ , I didn’t!” 

 _“Ouch!_ ” He rubbed his arm histrionically.  “I’d love some. Thank you.”  

“You know,” Kathryn leered at the crowd.  “One day the lot of you is going to eat your words about my cooking!”

 _“Mmhm,_ ” Jan placated and kissed Kathryn’s hair as she laid the plates down in front of Gregg and Andrew. “So you keep telling us.”

“These are fantastic,” Andrew muffled through a mouthful.  “When’s the rest of the gang getting here?” 

“Soon,” Kathryn looked at her phone. “Mike and Ginny are on their way, and Shannon and Henry are just an hour outside of Arcadia.” 

“Twelve?”  Andrew beamed as he took a sip of the coffee his wife had brought him.  “You know what this means right?” 

“Football?”  Chakotay offered. 

 _“Football.”_ He repeated. “I miss playing football on Thanksgiving.  That was practically a Stevens’ Family tradition when I was growing up.”

“Same in our house,” Gregg mumbled. 

“So what does everyone think? Guys versus girls?”

“That is so sexist,” Jan rolled her eyes.  “But that being said, girls would win.” 

“No way,” Gregg defended, crossing his arms. 

“Fine,” His wife squared her shoulders as she put the knife down from cutting the last of the butternut squashes. “We’ll bet on it.” 

Gregg’s eyes danced dangerously between Chakotay and Andrew, the tension in the room mounting just as the front door opened.  _“Hello!”_ Mike’s voice boomed into the kitchen as the family appeared. 

“Mike!” Chakotay had never been more relieved to see another human being in his life. “Ginny. Hey Brian, Liz.” 

The two teenagers looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment before they saw all the food and rushed into the kitchen.  “Hey Coach,” They nodded. “Hey, Kathryn.”

“Hey you two,” Jan ruffled Brian’s hair and folded Liz into a hug.  “Since when did I give the two of you authorisation to get so big? Brian I can barely reach _your head!”_  

“Kathryn,” Ginny embraced her friend. “My god, I thought you were going to pop last month.  I can’t believe she hasn’t come yet!” 

Kathryn laughed and rolled her eyes. “So are we.  Any day now.” 

Mike leaned against the counter and started snacking on the crudités.  “So,” He looked around the kitchen.  “What’s going on? I though Jan was about to go helter skelter when we walked in.”

 _“The men_ ,” Jan frowned, resuming her task on the counter.  “Were talking about a guys versus girls touch football game.  My dear husband doesn’t think girls would win." 

“Um, we’d  _totally_ kick your asses. No contest. ” Liz defended, taking a pancake and eating it with her hands.  

 _“Elizabeth!”_ Her mother laughed. “Language! And get a plate, young lady.” 

“Sorry,” She wasn’t. 

“You wish, Liz,” Brian shook his head and looked doubtfully at his father before meeting his sister’s testy gaze. “We’d totally beat you.”

“I’m not getting involved,” Ginny put her hands up.  “Other than to say... Liz is right.” 

Mike looked like he was between a rock and a hard place before he gave in.  “No.  Guys would win fair and square.  We’re _meatier,_ _meaner_ , and _faster.”_

Kathryn sat back and enjoyed the banter as she caught her husband’s eye, “Well?” 

“Well,” He looked down at his hand. “That’s Aoiffe, Ginny, Liz, Jan, Ann, and Shannon against me, Andrew, Gregg, Mike, Henry and Caleb. It’s a fair number…” He shrugged. “I’d put my money on the men.”

“Chakotay!” Kathryn guffawed, throwing her kitchen rag at him.  “You’ll pay for that.” 

“In fairness,” He bargained, his hands gesticulating sincerely.  “If Kathryn were playing, I wouldn’t be so confident.” 

“Nice save,” She chuckled.  “You can sleep in the bed tonight.” 

“All right,” Gregg sat back as he finished the last of his late breakfast.  “It’s settled then. Loser cleans up after dinner and does the dishes.”

The men looked at one another, confident they’d spend the remainder of the evening after dinner lazing in the living room watching the game while the women cleaned up. “Done.” 

* * *

_“Oh my goodness!”_ Liz pulled out the chairs from the large table.  “This table is _huge!”_

“I know!” Kathryn angled herself to help only to meet Jan’s glare and sit back down on one of the chairs. “I think it’s bigger than the one that I had growing up!” 

“Definitely bigger than the one at our house,” The young girl crawled under the table.  “Does Chakotay know how to pull it out?” 

“I think so. There’s a hatch-“

 _“Oh, eureka!”_ Liz breathed.  “I found it!” 

“Where?”  Jan’s voice strained as she got down on her hands and knees. “Oh, I think this one is like the one at our house.  You just flip it.  Liz, go and get the one on the other side and turn the little latch.”  

“Okay.” 

_“All right, and now Ann?”_

Ann bent down to regard the two under the table.  “Now do I pull it?” 

“Mm,” Jan nodded. “It should be easy.” 

“Do you want he-“ Kathryn began to get up before Jan appeared from under the table. 

_“No.”_

She rolled her eyes and sat back down on the cushioned chair. 

 _“Oh!”_ Ann pulled and the table started growing. “It’s going!” 

With a crack, Jan got up and rubbed her knees. “We’ll get the other side.”

“Getting old, Jan?” Liz teased and ran out of range of the playful smack she’d earned. “Just kidding!”  

“Just you watch, young lady,” Jan smiled.  “One day you’ll be just as decrepit as we are.”

“I’m determined _not_ to get old,” She qualified, pulling the other end of the table out to its extent.

Kathryn laughed. “That’s what I said once upon a time.” 

“Me too,” Ann rejoined. “And _look_ what happened to us.” 

“Well,” Liz shrugged in playful resignation as she scanned the women around her.  “Doesn’t look _too_ bad.” 

“It’s not,” Kathryn laughed. “I assure you.” 

 “Yeah,” Liz helped Jan and Ann move the chairs into place around the grandiose table. _“Especially_ when you’re married to coach,” She winked. 

Kathryn let her head fall back in a guffaw.  “Being married isn’t everything, Liz.  You’ll see that when you go to college, start working.  There are other things that will make you happy and enrich your life. But,” She peered into the kitchen, catching Chakotay’s eye.  “It certainly doesn’t hurt.”  

“I’ll bet,” Jan’s stomach rolled in amusement as she and Ann wiped tears of laughter off their cheeks just as the doorbell rang. 

“That must be the rest of the gang!” Jan bubbled, making her way behind Kathryn to the door as they greeted their guests. 

“Happy Thanksgiving! We come bearing gifts!” Henry bent down and kissed Kathryn on the cheek before Shannon, Aoiffe, and Caleb barrelled in from the cold.

“You’re absolutely glowing, Kathryn!” Shannon embraced her friend and greeted the strangers.

“I’ll leave these in the living room,” Henry indicated with the two large gift bags he had in his hands.

 _“Henry Janeway!_ ” Kathryn scolded as she followed him into the big room.  “What is all of this?”  

“Just a few things for you, Chakotay, and the baby,” He kissed her cheek again as Aoiffe and Caleb came to say hello.

“Well you shouldn’t have,” She admonished smilingly.   _“Aoiffe_ , I think you’ve gotten taller since I saw you. Caleb,” She kissed the young man's cheek. "You too.  Stop getting so tall."   

“I'm not, Kathryn,” The tall young boy laughed.  “You’re just not wearing shoes this time.” 

“He’s lying,” Aoiffe swatted his arm. “Mom swears he’s grown at least two inches.”

Shannon came into the room and took to her friend’s side. “Are you two giving Kathryn a hard time?” 

“No,” Aoiffe smiled, shaking her head as she walked off to introduce herself to Liz and Brian. “Talk to you later, Kathryn.”

“It smells _wonderful_ in here,” Shannon’s arm went around her friend’s shoulders as they made their way to the crowd in the kitchen. 

 “How was Texas?” 

 _“Fantastic,”_ Her friend radiated in sheer excitement.  “There’s too much to tell. Too much has happened since we last spoke. We’ll talk all about it after dinner. And by the way, you were right.”


	144. Chapter 144

“These are beautiful, Kathryn.” All the colours, sizes and shapes of the paintings and the scenes they depicted.  

“Thank you, Shannon. The children at the camp painted them for us.” She picked out a stray leaf from her friend’s hair, making the older woman smile. “Now, I’m sure there’s _more_ where that came from!” Both women laughed as their eyes trailed down to the grass stained corduroys.  “A lot more! _Good thing_ I didn’t wear my favourite jeans.”

“You _said_ you’d tell me more about Texas.”  

“ _After dinner,”_ Shannon tugged at her hand, smiling at her enthusiasm as they walked into the dining room. _“Jan!”_ She called into the kitchen.  _“Do you need any help?”_

_“No.  Thank you, Shannon. I’ve enlisted the men!”_

Aoiffe wore a broad, wistful grin as she and Liz chose seats next to one another at the table. “This is what Amazonian societies must be like.”

Shannon cracked a half grin as she sat down next to Kathryn.  _“Aoiffe?”_

“You know, mom, social constructs where men doing all the work and women have all the power. They only keep the men around for their-” 

 _“Aoiffe!_ Where on _Earth_ have you read about _Amazonian_ societies?”

“In a book,” She rolled her eyes. “ _Duh,_ Mom.” 

Her mother put her hands up in mock surrender, unable to hold the laughter that escaped her and the other women at the table. “Oh well, _excuse me!_ No one will ever doubt that you are Henry Janeway’s daughter.”

“I love seeing the men doing all the work,” Ann smiled wistfully as she took a seat next to her friends. “There’s something so gratifying about seeing them in aprons for once!” 

“I, for one, am used to it,” Kathryn laughed just as Ginny came into the room and took her seat. Chakotay barred me from the kitchen _years_ ago!”

Ginny chuckled at their arrangement as she took a seat next to Shannon.“Are we sitting according to teams?” 

“Seems that way.” Ann replied, overwrought with temptation to steal a hot bun from the baskets Ginny had brought.

Shannon as well as the rest of the table relented to the smell of the bread and each hungrily took a roll. “These are _amazing._  Ginny,” The sweet, doughy smell that rose up from the torn open roll was overwhelming. “How _on earth_ did you make these?”

“Magic,” She leaned back in the chair with her first bite, her face the picture of gustatory rapture. “I’m not even going to try to be humble about it.” 

“No need,” Kathryn savoured the buttery taste on her tongue, thinking it was one of the best things she’d ever eaten.  “These are heavenly.”

“Mm,” Aoiffe and Liz nodded at one another in agreement.  

“You’ve got to give me the recipe,” Ann took another roll and buttered it liberally.  “God, I’m so glad I brought yoga pants.”

“I should have thought of that,” Shannon pursed her lips.  “It would have saved my cords during the game.” 

“There’s no shame in unbuttoning your jeans after the meal,” Ginny permitted.

“Yeah, dad does it all the time,” Liz mumbled through a mouthful. 

 _“Liz!”_  

“Well it’s true!” She argued back. “And so does Brian.”

 _“Oh my God_ ,” Ginny’s head fell into her hands. “You don’t realise the depths of trashiness you’ve fallen to until you’re around company!” 

“Oh Henry does the same thing!” Shannon laughed.  “It’s a _man thing."_  

“Mm,” Ann nodded. “Now I just tell Andrew to wear his pyjamas when we eat dinner.” 

Mike’s loud voice boomed into the room as he carried the huge turkey on a platter. “What is going on here?” 

“It looks like the girls have decided to sit back and let the men do all the work!”  Andrew laughed as he followed with the mashed potatoes and remainder of the warmed rolls.  “And to boot, they’ve started _without us!”_

“But, we were _starving_!  We put all our energy into beating you this afternoon,” Ginny licked her lips at the sight of the large bird.  “Heaven above, this looks _fantastic!”_

“Mm,” Kathryn savoured the sight of all the food as it was laid in piecemeal on the table. “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen so much food on one table!”

Jan looked on proudly at the table in front of them as she took her own seat. “ _This_ is what it was like when I was growing up.”  

“How are the men getting on?” Kathryn smiled as she caught Chakotay’s eye as he brought in the oddly shaped, yet alluringly scented, _Tofurky._

 _“Just. Fine._ ” Jan lowered her voice conspiratorially as she looked around her.  “I think they’re even enjoying it.”  

Caleb and Brian appeared, still in aprons, carrying the rest of the dinner before they took their seat. “That apron looks good on you,” Liz ribbed.

“I know. Dad said it makes me look _handsome_ and _distinguished.”_

“Maybe you should wear it around _Rachel.”_

He looked over his shoulder at her, ignoring her tease and making her laugh.“Hm, _maybe_ I should.” 

“Who’s Rachel?” Aoiffe asked.

“Brian’s girlfriend.”  

 _“Not yet_ ,” He clarified.

“Brian,” Ginny rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair.  “Just be yourself. Rachel already likes you. Her mother told me so.” 

 _“Mom!”_ Brian blushed in horror at his mother as she continued to laugh with Chakotay looking on in corroborated hilarity. “Don’t you _dare,_ Coach!” 

Chakotay held up his hands before he jumbled his next words together only to earn another amusedly surly look. ““I didn’t say anything! _Now,_ ” He surveyed the table from its head. “Who’s ready to eat?”

“Oh, me. _Definitely,_ ” Gregg headed over to the turkey, picking up the knife and holding it with a surgeon’s precision.  “Does anyone object to me carving the bird?”  

“Charge ahead, Dear,” Jan glanced up at him over her buttered roll.  “No one wants to deprive you of your surgeon’s moment.”  Gregg wasn’t even paying attention amid his scrutiny of the perfect cut. 

“I didn’t know Tofurky came with stuffing?”  Chakotay said as he cut the soya amalgamation in a decidedly less precise pattern.

“It’s not the best,” Andrew mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes as he dipped his fork in the casserole dish to steal a piece of the tofurky.  

Ann caught his manners. _“Andrew!”_  

“What!” He looked up, mouth full and his face the picture of a child’s whose hand was caught in the sweets bin before dinner. “It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m eating my feelings.” 

“All over losing _one_ game,” Jan exasperated as she arranged dinner artfully on her plate.  “You men have the _most_ _delicate_ pride.”  

Gregg took Kathryn’s plate and laid a large portion of meat on it. “We do not!”  

“Not so much, Gregg,” Kathryn chastised.  “I’m never going to eat all of that.” 

“You can and you will,” He handed her plate back to her.  “Babies love turkey.”

“Is that a medical statistic?"

“It _is,_ in fact,” Gregg nodded. “Researched and _peer reviewed_ to boot.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” She laughed as Jan piled on more than a healthy portion of stuffing and mashed potatoes.  _“Jan!"_  

“What?”  The older woman looked so innocent. "Babies love stuffing."  

Kathryn shook her head, knowing when she’d lost a fight.  “This is delicious, thank you everyone.” 

“Mm,” Caleb nodded. “So good.  I wish every day was Thanksgiving.”  

“Me too,” Aoiffe smiled through her own mouthful.  _“So good.”_

“Well I’m glad everyone is enjoying it,” Gregg took his own plate and sat down. “Did everyone bar our resident vegetarians get turkey?” 

 The crowd nodded with a satiated, " _Mm!"_

Kathryn looked up the table at her husband.“How’s the Tofurky?” 

 _“Good,”_ He nodded, mouthful.  

“Henry,” Shannon’s voice was dubious as she looked down the table at her husband.  “Since when have you been giving Aoiffe books to read on _Amazonian societies?”_

“Aoiff?”  Henry looked puzzled. 

“I don’t get the big deal,” The girl shrugged.  “It was on one of the shelves upstairs.” 

“Amazons?” Andrew looked up. “Like Veronica from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s _The Lost World_?”

“The book?” 

“No. The nineties TV show.”

“Andrew and I have a weakness for all things nineties,” Ann laughed. “That TNT series was one of our favourites.” 

“I don’t think I’ve seen that one,” Henry thought back to when he’d had a TV.  “The last series I watched was ThirtySomething.” 

“That was the eighties,” Shannon remembered.  “I watched that one in college.” 

“Oh right,” Henry happily brushed off the memory and went back to his dinner.  “Who made the stuffing?” 

“That would be Chakotay,” Jan pointed.

“It’s excellent! Mm,” He savoured the bite.  “I love the cinnamon you put in it!” 

“It _is_ good, Chakotay,” Kathryn glinted as she loaded her fork with another helping.  “Everyone’s done a remarkable job.  Thank you.”

“Yesterday in school,” Aoiffe remembered.  “Everyone was sharing their family’s Thanksgiving traditions…” 

“We did that, too,” Liz looked over at Brian then back to Aoiffe.  “Anything good?” 

“Not really,” The younger girl shrugged.  “Most people just said either football or that after dinner they went around the table and said what they were thankful for.  We’ve never done that,” She looked over at her father.

“Well,” Henry cleared his throat.  “We’ve done other things…” 

“Yeah we’ve never really done that either,” Brian said. 

“Well,” Both sets of parents felt decidedly inadequate and started imagining what their families looked like compared to those of their children’s classmates.  “We could do that this year,” Mike offered.  “How’s about that?”   

For a moment Kathryn put down her fork and sat back to admire the people around her enjoying one another’s company and the food before them.  Her hand came up to rest on her swollen belly as she, just for a moment, remembered her crew. It has been her custom to think of them every day.  But now, little by little, as the days passed she remembered less and less of them and the life they shared together.  Their features were slowly fading.  First to go had been Tom’s baby blue eyes and then B’Elanna’s ridges. Next had been the spherical bob on the end of the Doctor’s nose and Seven’s twist, followed by Harry’s black shock of hair, Tuvok’s staid eyes, and Neelix's colourful spots.  She knew it was customary for memories to fade and for people to get lost.  But even in spite of their separation, she still missed them and what they had brought to her life.  But sitting here, surrounded by new friends, she was nevertheless thankful for the provision of people in her life for her to love.  More though, she was grateful for her husband - the man who she never thought she’d allow herself to love fully and openly. 

She caught his eyes, soft and brown and flecked with bits of gold around the black pupils. He knew her thoughts, and for the moment that was enough. _This_ was enough.  Yes, she leaned forward and gave him a nod as she resumed her dinner. Finally, _this was enough._


	145. Chapter 145

Kathryn sat propped against the back of the couch in her accustomed spot.  Hands on her belly, she was mixed with blended regret and satisfaction over her indulgent gustatory haul.  It was as though the spirits of Thanksgiving had possessed her and she was helpless to stop the fork from continuously finding its way back past her lips.  But, _oh_ , it had been _worth it!_  And she felt positively vindicated after six Thanksgivings aboard the ship with nothing but leola-stuffed _everything_ to keep her queasily satiated. 

Then, she had imagined proper roast turkey with the steaming, fragrant array of accompaniments.  If she tried hard enough, she found she could be nearly successful in swallowing the root that tasted like half a blend of tree bark and offed cheese.   This year, though, she savoured the butteriness of Ginny’s famous rolls and the juicy succulence of the day-basted turkey paired with the nutty flavour of the squash sweetly tinged with maple syrup and nutmeg.  Then were was the creaminess of the mashed potatoes and the crunchiness of the roast brussel sprouts.  She’d greedily gone for seconds and then thirds on the pumpkin pie and even gone in for a scoop of ice cream on the last helping.

Her eyes travelled lazily around the dusk-bathed room. The girls were asleep on the couch.  Their eyes had closed just as soon as Jan had started the old film. Ginny and Ann sat together on the opposite sofa talking quietly with Jan alternately about recipes and town gossip, while Kathryn and Shannon sat quietly watching the crackling fire that warmed the room. 

Shannon’s hand rested lightly on Kathryn’s belly as the baby moved.  “I can tell Chakotay’s so excited. Henry was like that with Aoiffe and Caleb.” 

“He is excited. He’s always wanted children. He never said it, but I always knew he wanted to be a father.  I’m just sorry...well I’m just sorry it didn’t happen sooner.” 

“Are you religious, Kathryn?”

Shannon watched her friend think on the question. “If you asked me that ten years ago, I could have given you a decisive answer.” Kathryn remembered a time in her life when things were so clear-cut.  She was a scientist, and science was all there was.  God, a deity, the supernatural, even the _thought_ was foolish.  To her, the conception was simply the hallmark of backwards society clinging to fantasy; the naïve contrivance of a people without scholarship. “If the question is whether I believe in a God like the Christian Jehova, or the Muslim Allah, then no. But,” Kathryn’s eyes wandered out the window to the deep red and golden yellow hues of the falling leaves. “I’d be lying if I said that I don’t wonder, like every scientist does at some point, if there’s something more.  Perhaps something after death that can’t be explained by natural phenomena…” She smiled and met her friend’s gaze.  “I’m not giving you a very good answer.” 

“I think we all wonder, Kathryn, if we think about it long enough.  I suppose what I was getting at is that perhaps _some things_ are _fated.”_

Fate was often a notion that bothered Kathryn Janeway. And it was one that bothered her quite often. She thought of it in the quiet moments she was alone. Was it Fate that Voyager was lost? That so many people were stranded so far from home? Was it Fate for people to die, to be ill? She thought of the children in the summer camp. All those faces that she loved and all the laughter she'd never hear again, or the smiles that would never again brightly light a room. Was it fate for them to die away like once flaming cinders?

Sometimes, the idea of Fate made things easier to swallow.  Sometimes she liked to believe in it because it took the onus off of her shoulders. Most times, though, she prided herself on eschewing the possibility of such an entity.  But sometimes, well sometimes she found its existence hard to ignore. She quirked her lips in a familiar point and smiled uncertainly. " _Maybe..."_ She conceded.   

Shannon dissolved into a quiet fit of self-amused laughter. “I think that after Thanksgiving dinner is _hardly_ the time for a philosophical discussion, or maybe I’ve been living around Henry Janeway for _far too long.”_  

“You were going to tell me about Texas.” 

“So I was. Well," She cleared her throat.  "A few weeks ago, Aoiffe asked me _why_  I stopped being an astronaut; why I never lived my dream,” Her voice dropped to an octave Kathryn could barely hear.  “I never told Aoiffe that I’d lost my job.  Oh, there wasn’t much to lose. I rang the bell,” She huffed a wry laugh.  “Left the training programme with only six months left to go! _Six months!_ I think NASA felt sorry for me, gave me a job.  _Some job,"_ She huffed. "I lost it only two months later.  _Downsizing_ was what they’d called it.” 

“I never knew-“

“Of course you didn’t,” Shannon looked at her oddly with a stumped grin.  “It isn’t something I broadcast.  _But,_ I think, back in my mid thirties, maybe, I was trying to run away from myself, and in the process I became someone I didn’t recognise.  Someone who threw away everything she’d worked for, and for nothing…”

“So _why_ did you?”  The question had burned at Kathryn since she’d read the newspaper clipping, since she learned that Shannon hadn’t held the lore Aunt Martha had always publicised.

 “I don’t know. It seems foolish. It _was_ foolish. But I don’t know.  I suppose I was just scared...” 

“Sometimes we do things when we’re young,” Kathryn permitted, reminded of the scant follies of her own youth. “Things we regret.”

“But I’ve gotten a second chance now,” Shannon beamed. “Not in the same capacity, but maybe a chance to _fix_ things.” 

Kathryn’s stomach lurched. The Shannon O’Donnell of her time never amounted to anything and presumably died away, lost to a history that had been forgotten in smoke and fire.  She had died with her creation and her skills and talents never made it beyond tarried family legend.

“It’s been _so good_ being back,” She continued. “That’s not to say that I wouldn’t be happy if the Millennium Gate was all there was for me, but having the chance to work on the Mars Missions,” Shannon chuckled again.  “It’s ironic really.” 

“How so?” 

“My class at NASA, we’d made it our own personal goal to reach Mars.  Our motto, would you believe it, was _‘Next Stop… Mars’!”_

Maybe Kathryn was missing something - some vital part of the picture.  _Yes_ , she comforted herself, perhaps there was missing information on the Ferengi database, even something Tom had overlooked...  

“I can’t say too much,” She sobered, still barely able to mute her glee.  “But we’re _so close_ , Kathryn!” 

Kathryn’s heart beat tangibly in her chest. _“To what?”_

“Space,” Shannon glittered.  “Travel, contact. To  _everything.”_


	146. Chapter 146

_Travel. Contact. Everything…_

Kathryn’s heart beat uncomfortably in her chest, her fingers curling into the stiffly soft fabric of the couch.

_Shannon O’Donnell was a consultant on the project of the Millennium Gate. Finished in the year 2012, the Gate was the world’s first self-sustaining eco system whose plans laid the groundwork for the many of today’s star ships and space stations...._

_Shannon O’Donnell Janeway, wife of Henry Janeway, mother to Aoiffe and Caleb Janeway. Died June of 2026, presumably one of the many casualties of the Third World War._

_“Kathryn?”_ Shannon’s soft voice prodded her, drawing her attention.   “Are you all right?”  

Reality tunnelled back to her in one swift millisecond. “Fine,” She covered her features in her most passable impression of the old captain’s mask.  “Just fine, Shannon.”  Kathryn tried for a laugh and scooted her bottom higher on the couch. “I was just wondering what you meant…”

“What I meant?”  Shannon looked sideways at her friend over her the rim of her emptying wine glass. 

“Contact. Have you found something?”

_April fourth, twenty sixty three, Zephram Cochrane successfully broke the speed of light barrier with his experimental warp drive aboard The Phoenix.  Having picked up the warp signal on long-range sensors, a delegate of Vulcans arrived on Earth the following day and made First Contact with Cochrane..._

“As in extra-terrestrial life?” Shannon’s shoulders shuddered in amusement.  “ _Goodness no!_ Unless there’s something they’re not telling us!” A deep sigh escaped her chest. “I _do_ wonder sometimes, though. This universe is too big just for us.  Maybe we’ll find something out there, on the way.  Wouldn’t that be exciting?” 

Kathryn already knew the answer to her ancestor’s exuberance; she had already seen those creatures about whose existence Shannon so avidly pondered. One part of her wanted to take Shannon aside and excitedly tell her everything.  But the other part of her, the part of her that still belonged to Starfleet, _that_ fragment of her cringed at what she, knowingly or unknowingly, had already done to the timeline. 

“I have a tendency sometimes to get a little over excited about things.  _Ask Henry,”_ She leered wistfully. “He’ll tell you how I drive him crazy!” Kathryn smiled and encouraged her to go on. “But I think this time it’s _not just_ excitement…” Shannon’s fingers curled around the body of her glass.  “We’re finally close to _something.”_

 _“What?”_   Kathryn asked softly, sensing that hopefully the wine and the food had nearly loosened the older woman’s tongue.

“I haven’t told Henry this, not that it matters.  He wouldn't understand even if I did!” Shannon moved closer to Kathryn on long sofa. “When we were in Texas, we met a man named Paul Cochrane.  For the last ten years he’s been working loosely on a new type of propulsion. It's something that’s never been attempted before in aerospace engineering.”

“Paul Cochrane,” Kathryn echoed dumbly.

_Zephram Cochrane, born in August 2031 to Paul and Lisa Cochrane, is credited with the invention of warp drive._

“Lovely man. _Brilliant._ ” Shannon’s speech started slowing as she grew tired.  “Said he’d been working on and off with different ideas for space travel since graduate school. You _should have seen_ this man, Kathryn!”

“Oh?” 

 _“Hundreds_ of journals,” She went on. “He let us look through them and even Jerry couldn’t figure them out! He has an idea about moving faster than the speed of light.  _Light!_ I remember when it was a revolution to break the speed of sound.  Of course then it was an obvious next step, we though.  Why _not_ exceed the speed of light? And up until now it’s been impossible,” She rambled.  “It still might be impossible, but maybe-” 

The back door opened and ushered in the raised voices of men enjoying one another’s company.   _“Hey Shan,”_ Henry poked his head into the living room as the others followed behind him, hushing their voices when they saw the sleeping girls on the sofa. 

Shannon looked up to see her husband’s frostbitten face. "Well, hi there." 

He looked over to Aoiffe who had opened her eyes just as Caleb sat on her legs. “We have to get going.  It’s getting late.” 

“Oh, you know you’re right! It’s nearly eight o’clock!”

Kathryn felt familiar fingers running through her hair as she looked up to find her own husband sitting behind her. “I didn’t know it was that late.” 

“Neither did I,” Chakotay told her. “We’ve all been outside.”

“Doing sufficiently manly things,” Gregg’s strong baritone added, laced with a chuckle. 

“What’s this about doing manly things, Greggory?” Jan slung her arm around his waist.  “Don’t you feel manly enough at home?” 

“Yes, Dear,” He kissed his wife’s head. “Of course, Dear.” 

Ginny and Ann came to join the crowd. “So what  _were_  you doing?” 

“Using power tools,” Mike gave a grin. “Some more football…” 

Ann reached up to lay a kiss on Andrew’s cheek.  _“Typical.”_  

“Best Thanksgiving we’ve had in a long time,” Andrew reached for Chakotay’s hand.  “We better get going, though.”  

“Mmm,” Ann yawned.  “I was about to fall asleep in that couch!” 

“We’d better go as well,” Ginny looked back at her kids and to her husband. 

“Yeah,” Mike nodded and yawned. “But I’m with Andrew; _definitely_ one of the best Thanksgivings we’ve had in a long time.” 

Ginny nodded in response. “ _The_ best.  We’ll have to do it again next year.” 

“Mm,” Jan caught the yawn as Gregg tugged on her waist. “Thank you Kathryn and Chakotay for having us.” The rest of the crowd murmured in gratitude.

“It was our pleasure,” Chakotay said gratefully.  

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded, smiling up at them from her seat on the couch as she glinted back at Shannon.  “It was.”  

* * *

"Shannon and Henry and their children are lovely," Jan wrapped the last of the rolls up in foil and placed them on the counter.  "She reminds me a lot of you."  

Kathryn beamed at the compliment. "You're not the first person who's said that." 

"What were two talking about?"  

"Her work," Kathryn ran the wet rag over the counter, catching the crumbs before they fell on the floor.  

"Oh?" Jan prodded. 

"She's working with NASA on the Mars missions.  She was telling me all about it." Kathryn looked back sheepishly.  "I'm sorry we were so exclusive."  

Jan smiled warmly at her as she passed and quickly kissed her cheek.  "I didn't mean it like that."  

"I know," Kathryn nodded and surveilled the dark kitchen, lit only by the dim lights coming from the porch and the large candle that had been burning on the kitchen table.  "It looks like we're done in here. Go take Gregg home and get some sleep."  

Jan’s eyes were rimmed with shades of purple. “Sure?”  

“Yes, Jan,” Kathryn tiredly nodded her head and stifled a yawn.  “We’re fine. The kitchen is clean, all the food is put away… _Go home.”_

“All right,” Jan hugged the younger woman to her. “Get some rest. I’ll call over tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Kathryn prodded her out the door. “Go home and go to bed, Jan.”

Gregg and Chakotay walked into the quiet hallway. “Ready, Jan?”  

“Mm,” Jan looked properly contrite. “Kathryn has told me in no uncertain terms to go home and get to bed.” 

Gregg yawned and opened the door, letting in nippy November air.  “Sound advice. Thanks again, you two.” 

Kathryn leaned up and kissed him on the cheek before hugging Jan to her again. _“Our_ pleasure.” 

“Goodnight,” Chakotay shook Gregg’s hand again and accepted a kiss from Jan before watching them get into the car and waiting to close the door until they’d waved them down the long driveway.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Chakotay," Kathryn whispered as they shut the door and turned off the foyer lights. 

"Mm," He leaned in and kissed her hair.  "Happy Thanksgiving, Kathryn." 


	147. Chapter 147

She read a book this summer that was left behind by one of the campers. With no first name scribbled in the front pocket, Kathryn had taken it home. She had been fascinated by the creature painted on the cover and recognised it as a centaur, a mythical creature belonging to the Ancient Greek fantasy.  The pages were well-worn, read a hundred times, it looked like.  They were marked and flagged with some torn in the margins.  She tried to remember now how it began. Something about a dark and stormy night… But wasn’t that how every good stories began in some way or another...?  Heralded by an _outstanding_ typhoon.

The story narrated a tale of three young misfits out on a mission to save the one they loved and the Earth in the process. It wasn’t something she would normally read, as Kathryn had always been drawn to the greats, not children’s fantasy stories.  But there was something about the gentle prose that caught her imagination. She saw bits of former herself in the heroine.  Like herself,  there was some of that familiar self-discomfiture.  And in the hero, she saw Chakotay.  What was his name?  Oh that’s, right: Calvin. And hers was Meg, leaving the littlest one Charles Wallace.

The baby was kicking at her ribs as she turned over in the bed, angling herself to watch the wind batter the trees outside the window.  At first she'd been tired, as all the food she ate had nearly put her into suspended hibernation.  But Shannon’s words had stunned her, turning that peaceful repose into something worse than indigestion. This wasn’t how things were _supposed to be. Everything_ had changed.  And she and Chakotay were the culprits. 

Her hand went to her forehead, rubbing in anxious circles as she shifted again.  They set out to be so diligent, all those months ago. But somewhere along the way, she’d gotten selfish and carried away.  She snorted wryly, how did she always seem to find herself in impossible situations?  All those years ago, she left Utopia Planetia and set out to be the perfect Starfleet Captain. She was going to be the one who followed the organisation’s precepts to the T and never made a stray mark. But look who she had become: nothing more than a lost and sloppy renegade. 

His voice was groggy as he spoke into the darkness.  _“Kathryn?”_

She turned to look at him, hair flopped over his forehead, eyes closed and a slight smile turning his cheeks.  “Go back to sleep.” 

 _“Tell me,”_ He drew himself into her side, sliding his arms around the base of her swollen belly.  

She kissed his forehead and repeated, “go back to sleep.”

“No. Tell me.  You’ve been quiet and withdrawn all night since everyone left.”

" _Fine,"_ Kathryn reneged, knowing she could never hide anything from him even before they’d become lovers.  “Chakotay, what do you know about Zephram Cochrane?” 

He blinked and sat up.  “Well, what every one knows… That he was the father of warp drive and made first contact with the Vulcans in twenty sixty three.  What’s this about, Kathryn?” 

“Shannon…” Kathryn played aimlessly with a stray thread hanging off their comforter.  “Remember I told you she was going to Texas?” 

“So?”  

 _“So,_ I didn’t tell you something,” Kathryn looked up at him.  “Shannon’s working on the Mars Missions.” 

“The Mars Missions?” It brought back a memory. “But I thought… I remember you saying she wasn’t involved. Isn’t that why you were…?” He was fumbling. “I thought she never worked on the Mars Missions...?“ 

“She didn’t, Chakotay. _Not_ in _our_ timeline.” Kathryn rotated again, the baby pressing at her bladder this time.  “Dammit, I searched that computer database from top to bottom. _Something’s_ happened.”

“Are you sure,” He rubbed the residual sleep from his eyes and focused himself better.  “Maybe you missed something.” 

“No,” She said adamantly.   

He shrugged and went back to their earlier natter.  “Why were you asking me about Zephram Cochrane?” 

“Shannon said she met with a young man in Texas by the name of Paul Cochrane whose been tinkering with new types of aerospace propulsion.” 

“Paul Cochrane?”  Chakotay sat up straighter. “I remember reading about him in school when I wrote my eighth grade history paper on Zephram Cochrane.”

“He was a scientist-“ 

“He inspired his son’s innovation. I remember reading about his journals.  If I remember correctly, they’re in the Cochrane Museum in Montana.”  

Kathryn’s eyes widened. _“Journals._   Shannon said he brought journals.” 

“It makes sense,” Chakotay huffed a disbelieving laugh. “They were full of formulas and diagrams that he used to build the Phoenix and construct the Fluctuation Superimpellar.”

“Something’s changed, Chakotay,” Kathryn shook her head and rubbed her eyes again.  

He had nothing to say because for once he didn’t care.  Perhaps it was his too-long stifled sense of selfishness coming through, or maybe it was because they’d had this self recriminating conversation too many times. Or perhaps it was because he was finally ready to let go of the past and be present in the life they’d made for themselves.  “And what if we have?”  He challenged.  “What _difference_ does it make now, Kathryn?  Maybe this world _won’t_ fall apart like it did. Maybe we’ll watch our children grow. Maybe we’ll die of old age, surrounded by people we love.  Maybe,” He raised his hands in a grand gesture.  “Maybe… I don’t know.  We can’t undo what little we’ve done and I won’t let you burry yourself in agony for it!”

 “How can you say that, Chakotay! We’re _Starfleet officers_ ; we took _an oath_ to uphold the Prime Directive!” 

 _“No!”_ He shot back, rolling out of bed into the cold air of the bedroom.  _“You did_ , Kathryn! I walked away a long time ago!”  She moved back on the bed, struck by his display of anger.  Chakotay had never been prone to shouting or frustration.  That had always been her forte. 

Chakotay rubbed his face as he looked away from her out the window to watch the midnight storm. “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to shout.” 

She manoeuvred herself off the bed to stand beside him as her arm came to wrap around his waist.  They stood in silence, watching the trees sway to and fro just as a few snowflakes started to fall from the sky.  

“I don’t think we’ll get enough for snowmen yet,” He whispered. 

“No,” Her other arm came to wrap around his front as he took her into his arms.  “But soon.”  

After a while he said, "This isn't your fault, Kathryn.  I would be the first one to say if it was."   

She laughed at that.  "Liar.  If it's my fault it's your's too."   

"Maybe we are to blame.  Maybe I should never have taken you to Portage Creek, and we never should have met Shannon and Henry.  But I don't regret that we did, even if it is reckless.  Do you?"  

Kathryn took a deep breath and let it out.  "Honestly?  No.  No I don't regret it.  Chakotay?"  

"Hm?"  

"Do you think they could ever find us?"  

"No, Kathryn.  But sometimes I still wonder."  

She nuzzled her face in his chest while his hands came to lay on either side of her stomach.  "Me too."  

"Are you seeing Grace tomorrow?"  

"Yes.  Last time she was talking about setting a date for induction if she didn't come on her own."  

"Well," His thumb rubbed in small circles.  "We're at term."

 _"Term._  Can you believe it?"  

"No," He shook his head and laid a kiss on her hair.  "So induction, huh?"  

"Mm.  The idea didn't sound _too appealing."_  

"Why not?"  

Kathryn shrugged and pulled away to look at him.  "I have this silly idea that I want her to come on her own. And, I don't want to be in the hospital."  

Her husband nodded and pulled her back into him.  "We'll see her tomorrow and figure out what's best.  Let's watch the storm for now."  

 


	148. Chapter 148

“So,” Grace’s hands moved in practised palpation down Kathryn’s abdomen.  “How are we?” 

“Fine,” Kathryn shrugged against the crinkled paper of the exam table as she watched Grace’s hands.  “Anxious.  Excited.”

“Concerns?”  

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” 

The harsh echo of the Doppler cut the space between them. “Is it the labour that has you nervous?”  

“No,” Kathryn shook her head before she backtracked. “Well…” 

“Cold,” Grace heralded before the cool jelly made contact with Kathryn’s belly, drawing a subtle wince.  “You were saying.” 

“I was just wondering about the induction…”  

“Only after forty two weeks if you’re not going into labour yourself,” Grace reassured.  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it… Oh!” She moved the Doppler a centimetre back.  “There. She keeps moving!”  It never took her long to find the delicate, reassuring gallop of the heart and within seconds it loudly permeated the space between them.  Kathryn listened, counting each beat.  One… Two… Three…

* * *

_“It’s beautiful…” Kathryn stood in wide-eyed wonder in front of the view port._

_“It is, isn’t it?”  Owen Paris stood behind her, marvelling.  “Things like this never get old.”_

_“No,” Kathryn shook her head, responding only in kind to his words and not to their meaning. A bright flash and a geometric zig-zag of colours played on the screen in front of her.  They expanded, intersected, and weaved through and around one another in a tantric dance that was as old as the known universe._

_Timeless._

_Owen’s hand rested lightly on her petite shoulder. _“It only happens three times every decade.”__

_“I don’t think there could be anything more beautiful,” The young lieutenant replied in wonder as the fine artistry faded away and the black and silver speckled sameness of charted space returned to its authority._

_Her fervent enthusiasm drew a laugh from the older gentleman.  “Sometimes I forget how young you are.  There’s more to life than space, Katie.  There are things more beautiful than stars going supernova.  I hope one day you know that…”_

* * *

 

“It never gets old does it?”  Grace smiled as she busied herself with wiping the scant jelly off the Kathryn’s stomach.  “Baby’s happy in there.” 

Kathryn nodded, pulling the thick sweater down over the bump. “One forty five, exactly.” 

“To the digit,” The young doctor showed Kathryn the digital readout on the Doppler.  “You did that _without_ even looking at the clock!”  

Kathryn’s took Grace’s offered hand and pulled herself up.  “I'm good with numbers. Thank you.” 

“Lucky you.  Math was my worst subject. Still is. Same with science. And here I am – a doctor. _Go figure_.  So,” She smiled in self-amusement as she took a seat at her desk and scanned computer screen.  “Same time next we-” A knock came from the door before it opened.

 _“Sorry,”_ Chakotay moved into the room, looking sheepish.  “I was trying to find a parking spot!”      

“You missed out on all the fun,” Kathryn clasped his hand as he took a seat next to her.  “One forty five beats per minute.” 

“With a perfect lie and cephalic presentation,” Grace winked. 

“Oh,” A palpable sigh of relief depressed his chest. “Good.  She moved.” 

“Mm,” Grace nodded.  “I told you, babies love to move around.  Most breech presentations don’t last for very long.”

“That’s what we read.  And I _thought_ something had changed this weekend when we felt the kicks more on the right.”

“Well you were spot on. Baby’s spine is on the left and the head is down, _but…”_

Kathryn inched forward in the chair, clasping Chakotay’s hand more tightly. _“But?”_  

“The head is still high.”  

“How high?” Chakotay squeezed her fingers twice in reassurance.  “Higher than minus three?” 

His question drew a hugely entertained leer from the young physician.  “Just _how much_ have you been reading?” 

“Everything.” 

“Literally,” Kathryn corroborated. “ _Everything_.” 

 _“Some girls…”_ Grace tipped her chin towards the ceiling in a gaily-wishful gesture drawing a laugh from the two before she met their eyes again.  “So next week I’ll see you again. Same day, same time.  We’ll keep it simple.  Sound good?” 

Kathryn nodded as Chakotay bent down to take her purse. “And _don’t_ **worry** ,” Grace came around her desk and put two hands on her petite shoulders.  “I’m not and I see hundreds of women every week. You’re the one I’m least worried about.”

“What about the placenta,” Chakotay retook his wife’s hand.  “Last week it was a little low-lying, you said.”  

“We’re keeping an eye on it,” Grace told him. “We would have known already if it was a placenta praevia, which it isn’t.  Like I said, I’m not worried, all right?” 

“Fine,” Kathryn tugged on her husband’s arm, nearly shushing his next barrage of questions.  “We’ll see you next week, Grace.”  

She crossed her fingers and waved the couple goodbye before disappearing into the adjacent treatment room.“ _Or sooner!”_

* * *

 

 _“I think he might be the one, Phoebe,” Gretchen effervesced as she laid the last of the dinner down on the kitchen table.  “Katie!” She called into the living room. “Dinner!”_

_Phoebe’s eyes were bright, her auburn ringlets decoratively framing her face as she plopped onto her chair. _“You think so, mom?”__

_“I know so. Kathryn!”_

_“I’m here, Mom,” Kathryn continued removing the pins from her long hair as she took her seat opposite her sister.  “What’s going on?”_

_“Nothing,” Gretchen breathed.  “Just dinner.”_

_Kathryn started on a warm roll and looked back and forth between the two women whose enthusiasm had diminished noticeably as she’d walked into the room. _“What were you two talking about?”__

_“How was work, Katie?” Phoebe spoke up as she ladled some of the curry onto her plate._

_“Fine. What were you two talking about? I heard you from the living room.”_

_“Andrew’s going to propose,” Phoebe smiled, anticipating her sister’s response._

_Kathryn laid her fork down on her plate. _“Did he tell you that?”__

_“Well no,” The younger sister rolled her eyes.  “But I just know.  Didn’t you just know when Mark was going to propose?”_

_She knew her question was moot; that it would hit a nerve._ _Mark hadn’t proposed.  He and Kathryn had sat down one evening and made a decision to get married some unspecified date in the future once she returned from the Badlands.  Once she’d captured the Maquis._

_“He said he wants to start a family soon,” Phoebe barrelled on.  “Don’t you want children Kathryn?”_

_“No. I don’t see the need.  I have my job.”_

_“Kathryn,” Gretchen looked between her two girls, sensing the hostility that only sisters could engender in one another.  “Phoebe.”_

_“You **will** someday, Kathryn,” Phoebe pleaded with the woman she’d looked up to her whole life. “Mark won’t, but you will, Katie. And one day, when it’s too late-“_

_**“Phoebe!”** Kathryn’s voice was more like a bark, a warning in itself._

_Phoebe visibly deflated in front of her, knowing her fight was already lost.  “You **deserve** more, Katie. More than the life you’ve chosen for yourself.” _

* * *

 

 _“Hey,”_ Chakotay tugged at her hand as they walked through the bright open hospital foyer. 

She looked up at him and drew closer to his side. “Hey.” 

“What were you thinking about?”

She busied herself with the zipper on the oversized coat as a cool November gust greeted them just outside the revolving hospital doors.  “Nothing new. Where did you park?”  

“Far,” He said apologetically.

“It’s usually not that difficult to find parking.” 

“I know.  It must be the time.” Chakotay rummaged in his coat pocket for the keys. “It smells like snow today.”

 _“Mm,”_ Kathryn took a deep breath of the cold air. “It does.  Maybe we’ll get more than a dusting tonight.”

“The Farmer’s Almanac said this winter might break all the records.  Snow fall, cold…”

“I can tell!” Kathryn pulled the coat tighter around herself as he drew her to his side.  “We’ll have to seriously consider electric heating if this trend continues.”

“I just don’t know if we can afford it,” He cringed at the quote he’d gotten for it.  “At least _not yet.”_  

“I know.  But,” She leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “We’ll make do.” 

"We're out in time for breakfast," He said. "Should we go into town?" 

"Sure," Kathryn smiled and leaned into him. "Pancakes don't sound so bad." 

"Pancakes it is, then.  Did you talk with Grace about induction?" 

"She said only after forty two weeks if I haven't gone into labour on my own.  That made me feel a little better." 

"Oh," He nodded. "Good."

"You sound worried." 

"I'm always worried. Will be worried until she comes out and you're safe." 

"Everything's going to be  _fine_ , Chakotay." 

"Hmm," He kissed her cheek and opened the door for her.  "I hope so." 


	149. Chapter 149

_His mother spoke in their native tongue, deliberately avoiding the use of Standard."You’re leaving, aren’t you?”_

_“Yes,” He replied softly as he diced the potatoes and set them in the simmering pot._

_The day was unusually quiet.  It wasn’t customary for his people to be this silent.  He was so used to the harried hullaballoo of the midmorning market, of the women talking and gossiping, dogs barking, and the children screaming and laughing as they ran and played._ _From where he stood he strained to listen, but all that met his ears was the raucous he himself was making with the knife on the cutting board._

_“What did Kolopak say?”_

_Chakotay stilled the movements, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You know what he said.”_

_“I know,” He felt a soft kiss on his cheek, smelled the warm scent of her. “He’s just contrary, like you,” She laughed, nudging him in his side.  “That’s where you get it from!”_

_“He doesn’t understand,” Chakotay resumed his task with renewed vigour as he poured his frustration into the crop.  “None of them do.  This world has to change or we’re going to be left behind!”_

_“Shh,” A hand ruffled his already-messy hair.  “Calm your anger, Chakotay.  He knows that.”_

_“Well if he knows that why doesn’t he convince the rest of the council to take the Federation’s agreement?”_

_His mother’s smooth hand laid down on his own and soothed his irate movements, allowing him to be silent for a moment until she asked,  “Now what am I going to do with this potato?”_

_Her simple question coupled with the carnage on the wooden board broke his wrath, replacing it with tendered amusement.   “Sorry,” He looked like a little boy, sheepish and endearingly apologetic with those big dimples._

_Her fingers poked the divots on his cheeks as he caught her hand against his face. _“My men have such beautiful smile marks.”__

_“This world will be destroyed, Mama,” He whispered.  “Please make him understand.”_

_“Oh, Chakotay,” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek again.  “Men are stubborn.  It takes an ox to pull them sometimes!  Let your father worry about this world. You have so much in front of you to let it be spoiled by your anger and frustration.”_

_“I don’t want to disappoint him.” For the first time he said what was in his heart._

_“I know,” Her other hand came up to cradle his face completely as her fingers ran over his high cheekbones.  “Kolopak loves you, Chakotay.  He just doesn’t understand you.  But I do. And I know that you’re going to change things.  That your life is meant for more than you could ever imagine.” _

_“What things, Mama?” He looked at her oddly, not knowing this would be the last time he’d stand with her in this kitchen, feel her hands cradle his face, or smell the reassuring sweetness of her breath. “What things?”_

_She smiled cryptically. _“Everything.”_ _

* * *

_“Chakotay,”_ He felt a hand running through his hair, tousling it as she’d just done a moment ago.  “Chakotay?”  

He filled his lungs with a deep breath of cool air. "Hm?" 

“You were dreaming,” She smiled down at him. “You fell asleep talking to the baby.”

His head rested against her thigh facing in towards the big belly.“I did?”  

She nodded her head, smiling. “What were you dreaming about?”

He cleared his throat and made the attempt to shake the residual sleep off.  Sometimes it felt too good to nap. Perhaps it was because he seldom allowed himself the indulgence, or perhaps because they’d been so busy recently. “I dreamt about my mother and the last time I saw her.” 

“Oh,” Kathryn nodded her head as his eyes fell shut again. 

“Sometimes I have dreams where I see myself. And it’s so clear,” The baby kicked his nose, making him laugh. 

Kathryn chuckled, moving her hands back into the black mess atop his head. “Did you feel that?”  

“Pretty soon I’ll have more than one dent,” He pointed, still laughing.  

“I like the dent,” Kathryn moved up, easing the ache in her back.  Chakotay’s arm went around the back of her waist as he held her to him and made himself comfortable again.  The action drew Kathryn’s smile as she pulled the throw-blanket up around his shoulders.   “What did your mother say?”  

He opened his eyes again to look at her.  “Something silly. Something about me changing things. Whatever that means.” 

Wind howled outside the old glass doors and rattled the old house frame. She watched the trees as they swayed too and fro, relinquishing the last of their dried leaves.  “That’s not silly,” Their eyes met again.  “You _changed_ me.” 

“That’s right,” He rolled his eyes wryly. “I drew us into the Badlands and got us stranded in the Delta Quadrant.  I took you away from your home and family, your fiancé, your life… _Some_ change.”

She nudged at his shoulder, shaking her head. “You know _very well_ that’s not what I meant!  And since when did you start changing history. Chakotay?”    

“Hmm?” He admired her in the grey light of the afternoon.

“Do you remember that story you told me?” He knew in an instant the one she was referring to and the memory brought its own special cringe. “Once up on a time.”

He rolled his eyes again and began to get up only to have her push him back down, forcing him to look at her and as she laughed at his sudden vein of irritable petulance. “What is _wrong_ with you today?”    

“Nothing.  I just don’t want to talk about it.”   In the whole last year, ever since that night really, they’d never spoken of that _‘Ancient Legend’._  

Kathryn kept at him, that grin growing as his ire foamed.  “Well, I do. You know I’ve always wanted to say those words back to you. I didn’t say anything that night because… because I didn’t understand.”  The quizzical look on his face encouraged her to clarify. “Growing up, out of Phoebe and I, I was always the cross one.  When I was eighteen, I came home one weekend from the Academy and I heard my parents talking.  My mother referred to me as a storm who just blew in and out of the house.  And she was right.” Chakotay’s hands came up to tangle playfully in the ends of her long hair as she kept talking.  “A few nights before I left Earth, the three of us had dinner at my mother’s house.  I used to watch my mother and Phoebe.  Things between them were _so easy,_ ” She remembered their laughter and their closeness. “But it was always different for me. I felt so alone after my father died. My mother and Phoebe clung to each other and I had no one.” 

“I think that somehow over the years, if I couldn’t change things I just got angry about them.  I was angry with us being in the Delta Quadrant; I was angry with us being stranded on New Earth; I was angry when I couldn’t love you. And I was angry when we came here.” 

He came up and kissed her chastely before resting his forehead against hers. " _I know,_ and I’m so-“

 _“Shh,”_ Delicate fingers shushed him. “I’m sorry that we left so many people that we loved, not because we started a life together. Not even that its here. What I’m _trying_ to say is that now _I understand.”_

“You are my peace, Kathryn.” Chakotay reiterated, laying a kiss against her hair.  “In all of this change, everything that’s happened over the past year, you’re still my peace.”


	150. Chapter 150

“Yes,” Kathryn shook her head amusedly, putting the phone to speaker while she rummaged in the cabinet.  “We’re just fine, Jan. How’s Florida?” 

 

“ _Oh good_ ,” Jan’s voice crackled through the poor connection.  “ _The internet is terrible here! So, we’re at forty weeks, now aren’t we?_ ” 

 

“Exactly forty,” Kathryn waddled around the frigid kitchen and busied herself.

 

“ _And nothing?_ ” Jan’s mellifluous tone sang through the kitchen.  “ _Not one contraction?_ ” 

 

“Nothing,” Kathryn rubbed her stomach and felt the movements of the life inside.  “We’re trying, though!” 

 

“ _Well keep trying!_ ”  Jan exasperated.  “ _Gregg and I will be back in Indiana tonight. We’re catching the red eye.”_  

 

“We have your flight taped to the fridge,” The kettle whistled loudly before she turned it off.  “I don’t think you’ll miss anything.” 

 

“ _Well you know what they say for how to get things moving – spicy food and plenty of se-_ ” 

 

“Yes, Jan,” Kathryn couldn’t hold the smile when she rolled her eyes.  “And we’re doing plenty of both.” 

 

“ _Well that I can believe!  I have a recipe for a hot curry that I’ll email you.  The sex you’re on your own! Though I can’t imagine-”_

 

“Jan!”  Kathryn nearly dropped the tin of tea down from the cabinet.  “I hope to god you’re in your room!” 

 

“ _We’re at breakfast_ ,” Jan qualified.  “ _Gregg’s sitting across from me positively dejected that there’s no brioche_.” 

 

“ _It’s just as well,_ ” She heard the older gentleman dejectedly say.  “ _Better to have the memory than to spoil it with a tawdry imitation.”_

 

“I’ll make you your brioche when we get home,” Kathryn pictured Jan patting his arm in placid conciliation.  

 

“ _Is Chakotay at school today?_ ”  She heard Gregg’s ask over the clanging in the background. 

 

“Mm,” Kathryn blew on the hot mug of tea.  “The students have a pool going, can you believe it? They’re taking bets on the due date!” 

 

“ _What’s the prise?_ ” Jan asked. 

 

“I didn’t ask,” Kathryn settled in the living room where her work was spread out on the couch and coffee table in front of an electric heater.  “He said he’d think of something.” 

 

“ _Oh, Kathryn!_ ” Jan spoke into the phone.  “ _We have to go.  We’re getting called in for the first talk of the morning._ ” 

 

“Sounds good, Jan,” Kathryn gave a nod.  “We’ll see you tomorrow.” 

 

“ _Tell that baby to stay put till we get back!_ ”  Gregg had taken the phone.  _“And be careful on the roads._ ” 

 

“I know - the ice-storm.  It’s all over the news.” 

 

“ _We’ll see you later, Kathryn!_ ” Jan called into the phone. _“Bye! Bye!”_

 

“Bye,” She smiled and ended the call just as the front door flew open and slammed shut just as swiftly.  “Chakotay?  Is that you?” 

 

“It’s me!” Red nosed and white eared, he hopped into the living room on one foot as he worked his boot off.  “Did you get my text?”  The article of contention flew noisily into the foyer and immediately he set to work on the other. 

 

“No,” She looked at the digital readout, seeing that in fact she’d missed his message.  “Sorry, I was on the phone with Jan and Gregg,” She laughed out loud at the words he’d sent.  “Oh?” 

 

“All the schools got out early today because of the storm.”  Chakotay threw his coat on the opposite couch and started on his trousers.  “They’re thinking about declaring tomorrow a snow day.” 

 

“Are we staying down stairs?” She asked but he was already nearly naked by the time she’d finished her sentence.  

 

“Mmm, He kneeled in front of her, hands at the waistband of her sweatpants and drew them down with her panties with one zealous tug. 

 

“You’re a little eager,” She laughed as she heaved her sweatshirt over her head, shivering in the relative cold of the room.  His only response was a look as he moved up on the couch, laying down and awkwardly pulling her on top of him.  

 

“Eager,” He laughed as she kissed him.  “Eager isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” 

 

Chakotay pulled her hips against his, smirking in satisfaction at the groan that escaped her. 

 

Her voice was breathy and broken as he easily slipped inside of her. " _Yes..._ " 

 

His hands and mouth went to the full breasts that swung enticingly in front of him.  “ _Kathryn..._ ” He ground against her, drawing another moan as her head fell back while she impatiently met his keen movement.  “Okay?” His voice was muffled against her skin while she held him there. 

 

“Perfect,” Her alto broke when his thumb found the most intense source of her pleasure and rendered her all but completely incoherent. 

 

/ 

 

“I think that was the best prescription we’ve ever been given,” Chakotay’s breath came back to him slowly.  Their skin clung together wetly and the warmth shared between their two bodies cocooned them from the chilliness of the room.

 

“Not that we needed one…” She dozed against his chest; flutters from her most recent orgasm still lingered while the snow fell steadily outside the window.  “I didn’t think it would actually snow.” 

 

“I told you…” He sounded like the little boys at the camp.  _I told ya so, Mrs. Kathryn…_

 

“I told Jan about the kids’ betting pool.  It reminds me of something Tom Paris would do.”  She smiled fondly at the memory of the pilot. 

 

“That’s because Tom was a child.” Her husband laughed. 

 

“Can you imagine Tom with his own children?”

 

“B’Elanna must be pulling her hair out! You remember how she was with Tom…” 

 

“Sweet,” Kathryn remembered fondly.  “A little capricious. But sweet.”

 

“That’s not the way I remember you thinking of it at the time…” He remembered the fallout of Kathryn’s chagrin with the young couple caught canoodling on duty.  That was nearly four years ago now that they’d encountered the cloaked aliens who’d used the crew of Voyager as lab rats. 

 

“Well if you remember at the time the headache I had…” Kathryn reminded him at the memory that seemed a lifetime away. 

 

“It doesn’t seem real anymore, does it?”  He pulled her closer to him and sighed as her arm tightened on his waist while his fingers tangled in her mussed waves.     

 

A sudden pang in her pelvis jolted her.  “Ow!” 

 

"Sorry," He kissed her temple and removed his fingers.  

 

"No," She shook her head and put his hand on her belly. 

 

“Kathryn?” 

 

She smiled at him as another wave of welcome pressure rippled through her abdomen.  “I think we’re in labour.” 

 

Chakotay sprang upright as though a bolt of electricity had run throught him.  “I’ll get the bag.  I’ve had it packed for weeks… We should get to the- Now where did I put that... I had it-“

 

“ _Chakotay_ ,” Kathryn laid back against the softness of the sofa, grinning appreciatively at him as he hopped naked around the room in front of her. 

 

“What are you doing?” He flustered and fumbled with the mess of his clothing on the floor.  “We have to get going!”

 

“Chakotay,” She stayed in the same spot, unmoved by his nervous agitation.  “Nothing’s happening.  My water hasn't even broken.” 

 

“You want to wait?”  He visibly deflated remembering how long it would really be until she went into active labour. 

 

“Yes,” She held out her hand to him and he took it calmly as she drew him back down to her.  She kissed his cheek.  “We’ll call Grace in a bit.  But wait,” Her voice whispered as he held her next to him.  “Just wait.”    


	151. Chapter 151

 

**_The time is O’six hundred hours.  The time is O’six hundred hours. The time-_ **

“Computer,” The young woman groggily muffled into her pillow.  “Reset clock twenty-four hours!”

 

**_Clock reset for: twenty-four hours_ **

****

For a moment she wondered why she’d been the one to turn off the alarm; he was always the one to wake her up. Sometimes it was with a nudge or a tug; most times it was more pleasant…

 

 Eyes still closed, she reached an arm out to her lover’s side of the bed, expecting to feel his warm body there.  Perhaps she could convince him to make love to her before he started his duty shift.

 

But all her hands met were the cool crumpled sheets of the spot he’d already vacated.  She listened for him in the stillness of their quarters, but he was already gone.

 

Resigned, she took a deep breath and threw off the warm blanket, exposing a slim expanse of naked skin to the bedroom’s cool, recycled air.   There was no rush this morning; she was off duty today anyway, allowing her the chance to malinger more than usual. 

 

For a moment she considered going back to bed. She thought on the tempting proposition as her eyes scanned the overly decorated corners of their room. There were pictures everywhere. They covered the walls, shelves, and dressers.  There were mementos from both their lives all jumbled and mixed.   It was fitting, she thought; most of their lives had been spent together – most of their memories, shared. 

 

The young woman chuckled as she rose from the soft bed and searched through the mess on her side of the bedroom for her kimono. For a tender moment she remembered when they’d first started living together.  The move had almost broken their relationship.  

 

He somehow expected her to be as organised as him; to seek out the order that he’d been trained to strive for. But she was a free thinker, Neelix had always told her, and free thinkers were messy and chaotic.

 

He told her recently that living with her had helped him better understand what it meant to be human in a way he’d never understood before.  And even though the sentiment was expressed in a soft voice while his fingers tantalisingly trailed over her bare breast, she still wasn’t sure if he had meant it as a compliment. But she’d taken it as one. Even after all these years, she smiled, he was still such an oddball. 

 

They’d once counted a hundred holoimages in their quarters, all of them delicately framed and cherished.  But her favourite was still this one.  She trailed her fingertips over the silver edges before she picked it up and studied it for the hundredth time. 

 

She had always found the older woman beyond beautiful. When she was younger, she’d inspired her, given her more confidence than anyone else ever had. She was powerful, yes, but there was more to her.  There was kindness, love. Most of the crew never saw that side of her. 

 

She spoke about it sometimes to B’Elanna and Tom, and Neelix when she could.  They understood that love; they understood the woman she was.  Her eyes followed the shadow next to her to the dark man whose brow had always fascinated her.  But it wasn’t just those stygian lines that beckoned her fancy; it was the man himself.

 

Too young to understand love for herself the way she now did, she had always known that the man in the photo had loved her hero. And loved her in a way that she still could only scratch the surface of understanding. 

 

Years later, Tom and Harry had told her stories of them together.  B’Elanna told her some, too.  She asked them until they were tired of her questions.  Until they kicked her out of their quarters and told her no.  Until the next morning when she could ask more.   

 

It was something in the way they longed for each other but kept it hidden that appealed to her admiration of them, but also her sadness for them.  She thought of them more than she should and their lives became an obsession that wouldn’t let her go.

 

She set the one down, and picked up the adjacent photo of the man who shared her bed.  She traced the silver lines on his face, and appreciated the kindness of his eyes.   She loved him like the man in the other picture loved the small woman by his side. 

 

For years, even when she was just a girl, she’d known that he’d seen her as more than a friend.  Perhaps in retrospect the thought should have made her uncomfortable.  But it wasn’t like that.  And they’d waited. Well... they’d waited only as long as her sixteenth birthday to tell her parents. Was that really eight years ago now? Time sometimes passed too quickly, she thought. 

 

She put the holoimage down and walked into the living area.  “Tea,” She spoke softly to the replicator.  “Blend forty five.”  

 

The stars flying past out the viewport told her they were travelling at warp nine on their way back to Earth. Their mission had been straightforward, boring. Not like their missions had been all those years ago.  She recalled everything, both good and bad.  Excited and terrified, there were times when her younger self got no sleep; when she looked outside the viewport of her quarters and watched the alien weapons fire batter her beloved ship’s stalwart hull.  And she used to imagine the chaos on the bridge, hear the Captain’s commanding voice.

 

She remembered the first contacts, all the people on the ship.  She remembered Seven’s lessons; the Doctor’s dry orations.  She remembered holoprogrammes and distant planets, people to learn from and talk to…

 

Oh, but she also remembered a time when they’d stayed in one place for over a year and half.  And that was when everything had changed – when their obsession started.

 

They crew had been frantic after the Captain and the Commander disappeared.  Everyone, even Mortimer Harren, had joined the search.  They’d run every scan, sent out every probe. More than once, shuttles had surveyed the area and mapped every corner of it.  Every piece of space dust had been catalogued; every insignificant anomaly was studied down to its last atom.  But there was nothing that remained of the two officers bar the items in their quarters, their logs, and the memories they held in people’s minds.

 

A child, she’d pleaded with Tuvok not to stop the search, begging for just one more day.  And as much of a Vulcan as Tuvok prided himself on being, he indulged her – granting more time than he should have to continue the search. Looking back, Tuvok hadn’t wanted to let her go either.  But after nearly two years, they made the decision to leave. 

 

But she kept looking.  Well, furtively everyone did, until… well until they stopped.

 

But she couldn’t, and neither could he.

 

Two years after the disappearance, the crew held a memorial service and everyone said goodbye.  But she didn’t, couldn’t.  Neither could he.  The senior staff tolerated their obsession to a point, until they asked them to stop.

 

_“It’s too painful,” Harry kneeled down to her level, his dark eyes so solemn. “We said goodbye. You should too.”_

 

So it became something between them. Something precious and shared that drew them closer until soon they started falling in love with one another.

 

The pneumatic doors to their quarters hissed open, letting in the comforting stale lighting from the corridor. She turned away from the viewport to regard him when she caught an old glint in his eye. 

 

“Icheb?”  She put her tea down on the table and walked over to him.  His arms were shaking and he wore a tentative smile.

 

“I think,” The stiffness in his shoulders let out somewhat as her hands met the subdued strength of his biceps. She’d never seen him like this; like a spring full of potential energy waiting to burst. 

 

“What?”  She laughed expectantly.  “Tell me.”

 

“I think I found them.” 


	152. Chapter 152

“ _What_?” Naomi brushed long wispy strands out of her eyes as she pulled him to sit on the couch with her. “Icheb, what are you saying?”

 

He gave a nervous and excited laugh and relinquished his padd next to her tea on the coffee table.  “I don’t know, if it means anything.  But I think it might…”

 

“Well?” She bubbled near boiling point and patted his leg impatiently.  “Tell me before I explode!” 

 

“It's something we never considered before. I don’t know why…” He let out an emphatic breath.  “But this morning when I was in the messhall, I overheard a conversation between Ensigns Stevens and Roberts.   They were talking about Professor McNellen’s course in Temporal Mechanics and how he referenced one of Captain Janeway’s old logs.”

 

“Which one?” 

 

“When I heard their conversation I remembered it immediately; October twentieth, twenty three seventy four…” He goaded her. “Remember?” 

 

She thought on it for half a second before it registered. “The Time Ship,” Naomi mumbled. “When Voyager was thrown back to the year nineteen ninety six.  Icheb, you don’t think…?” 

 

“No.  Not exactly.” He shook his head and allayed her overactive imagination. “But it got me thinking that we’ve been a little too narrow with our search parameters.” 

 

“ _Narrow_?” They’d searched every database with a fine-toothed comb.  For the last sixteen years that’s all they’d done! “How?” 

 

“Temporally.”  He clarified, reaching for the padd he’d deposited on the table. “The ship’s civilian search database only goes back one hundred years exactly.  So,” he activated the screen.  “Well, I changed them only slightly.  And this,” He breathed heavily and looked down as he handed the padd to her.  “Is what I found…”

 

Naomi’s eyes devoured the page hungrily. With each brief passing word, her heartbeat raced until it threatened to burst out of her chest at a sprinter’s pace. “Oh, Icheb,” Tears crowded the corners of her eyes while her hands shook in grieved reprieve.  “We have to tell Tom and B’Elanna.” 

 

“We’ll be back on Earth tomorrow. We’ll tell them then.” He agreed, a bit of his former giddiness returning before he noticed her sadness. “Naomi, this is good news.”

 

She shook her head and dropped the pad, looking away from him as the wetness ran down and coated her cheeks. “I know.  I know, Icheb.  At least we know.  At least… at we have some answers.”

 

“Oh, _Naomi,”_ He moved closer to her and pulled her against his chest while her whole body rigoured in sadness.  Icheb’s big hands moved up and down her back, soothing and calming her, while he laid gentle kisses in tangled red hair. 

 

He let her cry out sixteen years worth of sadness and frustration.  He let her cry in relief for the fact that they weren’t dead.  Though, that was perhaps moot now, too.  But most of all he let her cry for her loss.

 

But after a few moments, she sat up straight and regarded him seriously.  “Icheb?”

 

He sat back and looked at her completely; narrow shoulders, button nose – the spikes on her forehead that he kissed each night, and her bright blue, indomitable eyes.  “What, Naomi?” He whispered. 

 

“We’re going to find them.” 

 

“Find them?”

 

“Yes.” Naomi smiled and resolutely wiped the sadness off her cheeks before she got up and disappeared into their bedroom.  

 

Icheb blinked at her sudden absence. He had come home preparing to manage their collective grief and start the process of saying goodbye. But, a small grin turned the corner of his cheeks – he should have known that Naomi would never have let this go. And if he was honest with himself – he wasn’t prepared to either.  At least, not yet.

 

She reappeared not a moment later, hair pinned with a new uniform on.  “Come on,” She stooped down to pick up the discarded padd, pulled him up off the couch, and dragged him out into the corridor heading towards astrometrics.  “I have an idea.”    

 

_“Crewman Wildman,” Seven’s monotone snuck up behind her.  The sound of the ex-Borg’s voice always made her straighten her back and lose the smile she was wearing… but only for a moment._

_You see, it was Naomi’s own little game; one day she was going to make Seven of Nine smile._

_Once she thought she’d nearly succeeded.  But it was just her luck that Seven had been taken over by some sort of residual Borg conscience.  But she’d liked that Seven; she wasn’t so serious, and she liked to play kadiskot. Well… at least until the next personality had taken over her body._

_“Yes, Seven?” She gave a big grin and met the woman’s tenderly reproachful gaze._

_“It is after twenty two hundred hours.  You are not meant to be roaming the corridors.”_

_“I’m not a little girl anymore, Seven,” Naomi laughed and tried to straighten her shoulders to look older than she was._

_Seven, though, was customarily unimpressed.  Her ocular implant told Naomi so as it reached her hairline in a familiar expression. “Fine…”_

_“Off to bed,” Seven gave an impression of a rueful smile and began walking Naomi back to her quarters._

_“Seven?” Naomi’s hand slipped into hers as they walked the long corridor._

_“Yes, Crewman.”_

_“You looked nice today.” She thought nothing of the words she said; she had only meant them as a compliment._

_“I beg your pardon?” Seven looked down at the young girl._

_“I saw you today – in the same uniform that my mom wears,” She looked up at Seven’s suddenly stricken face.  “I thought it looked nice.”_

_Seven stopped suddenly and crouched to her level.  “Naomi,” The woman grabbed her shoulders.  “Never say a word about what you saw today.”_

_“Seven?” Naomi’s eyes crinkled in confusion. ._

_“Just never speak of it,” She said more firmly.  “Understood?”_

_“Okay,” Naomi nodded, frightened by Seven’s unexplained fervency.  It was only a uniform, she thought... “I won’t.”_

_“Goodnight,” Seven deposited her at her quarters.  “And sleep… tight.”  Neelix had taught her the phrase a few nights ago.  Now seemed like the appropriate time to use it._

_“Goodnight, Seven,” Naomi gave a wan smile and entered the code to her quarters, disappearing behind pneumatic doors before Seven took off at a trot back down to Astrometrics._

“Naomi,” Icheb’s warm hand tugged at her shoulder. “Naomi, wake up.”

 

She sat up with a start, swatting him in the eye with startled hands.  “What time do we reach Earth?” 

 

“Not until morning,” He yawned. “Sometimes, I think it was easier to regenerate…” 

 

“I’m sorry,” She turned to him, trailing her fingers along the lukewarm ocular implant before laying a kiss to the prominent bridge of his nose.  “I was dreaming.”

 

“You were talking to Seven,” He pointed out. “Something about her uniform…”

 

“Yes,” She laid back down, remembering the dream but saying nothing more.  “Did you contact Tom and B’Elanna?” 

 

“They’re meeting us at Utopia Planetia in the morning. B’Elanna and her team are supervising the upgrades.” 

 

“I forgot they were already coming… I hope they bring Miral.”  She glanced at the digital readout on the side of the bed.  It was only three in the morning.  “I should get back to astrometrics…” 

 

A hand caught her and pulled her back into bed. “It’s early in the morning, Naomi. The night shift will still be there.”

 

A defeated sigh left her and she settled back into the warmth of the bed.  “That’s right.”

 

“Tell me about your dream.” 

 

“It was nothing,” Naomi ran an anxious hand through her hair.  “Just a forgotten memory of something that happened when I was five.” 

 

“Tell me.”  Icheb insisted. 

 

She looked over at him with a relenting grin, still after all these years unable to refuse him anything.  “It was nearly six months before you came on board. I don’t remember too well what happened that day.  My memories are all fragmented.  But I remember walking in the corridors one day when I saw Seven.” 

 

“So?” Her lover laughed.  “That means nothing.” 

 

With a snarky grin, Naomi looked down her nose at him to deliver the plot twist.  “She was wearing a Starfleet uniform.” 

 

“Seven never wore the Starfleet uniform,” Icheb remembered humorously.  “She still doesn’t.”

 

“At the time, I thought nothing of it,” Naomi told him. “Until that night when she found me in the corridors again.  Typically Seven, she was cross that I was out so late.” The young woman laughed. “When she was walking me home, I complimented her on the uniform and all of a sudden I remember Seven panicked.”

 

“Seven?” Icheb laughed and propped himself up on his elbow to look down at her.  “Panicked? Then what happened?”

 

Naomi closed her eyes.  “She left me at the door and waited until they closed. I asked the computer about her location before I set off down the corridors again.” 

 

“Why?”  Icheb asked the question rhetorically.  Naomi wasn’t capable of letting a mystery rest until she’d solved it. That was why they were here.

 

“You know why,” She read the look on his face and bent up to kiss his cheek.  “You know me better than anyone, Icheb.” 

 

“I know,” He kissed her chastely. “So what happened next?”

 

“The next thing I remember is hearing Seven and Captain Janeway…” 

 

_“What?” Janeway walked quickly and kept her voice low.  “What do you mean, Seven?”_

_“Precisely what I said,” The former drone demurred._

_“I thought it was clear that no one saw anything.” Naomi recognised Janeway’s tone – tired annoyance._

_“Apparently you were mistaken.”_

_“Has anyone else said anything?”_

_“No,” Seven shook her head curtly._

_“Damnit,” Janeway rubbed her forehead.  “Temporal mechanics make my head spin.  Did she see anything else?”_

_“No, Captain,” Seven replied once they’d reached the turbolift._

_“Fine,” Naomi watched the exchange. “We’ll just hope she never mentions it,” Janeway took a deep breath.  “Goodnight, Seven.”_

Naomi met Icheb’s eyes in the half-light of their quarters.  “I do not see the significance,” he told her. 

 

“Neither do I,” Naomi’s forefinger plumped the three ridges on her forehead.  “Maybe B’Elanna and Tom might know something.” 

 

“We’ll ask them in the morning,” The young man yawned.

 

“Go to sleep,” She kissed the join of his nose as he settled against her.  “Icheb?”

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Do you think they’re still out there?”

 

“I don't know,” He answered honestly. “But if they are, we will find them.”


	153. Chapter 153

“Tom said Icheb sounded impatient over the comm.,” B’Elanna looked over her stack of banana pancakes at her fidgety companion.

 

Naomi had been jumpy all morning; she’d practically tackled her at Utopia Planetia when she’d disembarked.   It wasn’t like her, B’Elanna thought.  Though risible and curious, she’d always kept her cholerisms in check. This morning, though, something about her was off. 

 

Naomi looked back towards the door, looking for their missing companions amid a colourful array of people. “Icheb said he wouldn’t be late.”

 

“He and Tom probably got caught up.” B’Elanna touched the young woman’s hand and brought her back to the present. “You’ve barely touched your breakfast.”

 

Naomi looked down at the untouched food and back up at her friend before she realised what a scene she was making. “I’m sorry.”  Her shoulders visibly fell.  “I wanted to wait for Icheb and Tom.  You see…” She propped forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Icheb found something.”

 

“ _Something?”_ A pit settled in B’Elanna’s stomach as she relinquished her fork. For a while she’d thought they’d given up this obsession – that they’d finally let it go to rest. In hindsight, though, it was a naïve assumption knowing both Icheb and Naomi.  “Naomi,” She closed her eyes and shook her head reprovingly. “I thought…” 

 

“No,” Naomi’s eyes lit up.  “You don’t understand.  We found _something._ ”

 

The girl understood her friend’s contention. She and Icheb weren’t blind to people’s frustration with their fervency for their quest. In the beginning, the crew had regarded it as a cute and admirable pursuit, but as the years dragged on and the questions and shallow rabbit trails continued, their patience wore thin.

 

B’Elanna’s fingers rubbed the tired ridges on her forehead.  “It’s been sixteen years, Naomi.  You _have_ to _move on_. We all wanted to find them, but we searched for years. _Years!_ Chakotay was my best friend,” She breathed.  “And his loss hit me harder than anyone-” 

 

“I know,” Naomi tried to cut in.  “But-“

 

“Losing them both nearly broke us. Don’t you remember?”

 

“Yes, B’Elanna,” Naomi’s knee bounced impatiently under the table as she tried to cut in on her friend’s tirade. “But-“ 

 

“We all had to let them go,” She barrelled on. “It’s time you did, too.”

 

“ _B’Elanna_ ,” Naomi took a deep breath.  “I don’t think you understand.” She smiled conspiratorially when she saw Icheb and Tom out the corner of her eye as they came to take a seat at the table.

 

Defeated, B’Elanna gave her a look, keeping her stare, unreactive when Tom kissed her cheek.  Naomi leaned in close again, taking Icheb’s hand under the table and tangling their fingers together.  “We _found_ them.”

 

“ _What_?” B’Elanna’s high-pitched whisper was just as sheering as a shout. “You _what_?”  

 

“Yeah,” Tom looked between his two friends and back to his wife in complete bewilderment.  “What are you talking about?” 

 

“Icheb,” Naomi looked giddily at the man beside her. “Tell them!”

 

“Maybe,” He reached down and fumbled in the rucksack to recover the same padd he’d shown Naomi the day before.  “It’s better if I just show you.” 

 

B’Elanna warily took the padd over the table and thumbed the activation sequence.  _This is the last time_ , she thought. She squared her shoulders and crossed on leg over the other, steeling herself for another rabbit trail – for one more resurrection of painful emotional recollection with no hope of fruitful restitution. 

 

“Second page,” Icheb pointed as Tom angled himself, hand on the other size of the small device as he read on.

 

The images that filled the page crowded her field of vision and her eyes widened until they could no more.  “ _Kahless!”_ Startled, she looked back up at the young couple.  “Naomi, where the hell did you find this?”

 

Tom grabbed the padd from her hands for a second glance before he looked back at them with a similar expression of shock. “ _Holy shit!”_

 

“We didn’t want to tell you over the comm.” Icheb breathed.  “We didn’t think you’d believe us.” 

 

B’Elanna covered her mouth in mixed grief and relief as she leaned forward against the table.  She looked down at the padd in her husband’s lap for a thoughtful moment, re-reading the excerpt a few more times before she’d burned it into her mind. “You know this doesn’t change anything.”

 

“B’Elanna,” Naomi let out a softly exasperated breath through her nose as she looked her friend in the eyes. “This changes _everything_!”  

 

“ _Twenty-thirteen_!” B’Elanna’s loud show of her Klingon temper startled the array of patrons.  “Naomi you’ve lost your damn mind!” 

 

“Let’s go somewhere else.” Tom’s steadying hand found his wife’s leg.  “Where we can talk this through in private.” 

 

Icheb and Naomi got up, not nearly fazed by B’Elanna’s outburst, and dropped the requisitioned credits on the table next to their uneaten breakfast before they hurried out of the restaurant.

 

“I’m sorry,” B’Elanna touched her friend’s hand as they walked the familiar corridors of the ship she still, in her heart, called home. 

 

“For what?” Naomi’s soft voice echoed.

 

“For shouting,” B’Elanna gave a smile and rolled her eyes at Naomi’s old habit as they walked into the darkened living quarters. “I swear every time I come here, new memories start to surface.”

 

The young woman smiled as her friend walked around and looked at the framed holoimages.  “We don’t want to forget anything.”  She looked back at Icheb and Tom on the couch.  “Or anyone.” 

 

“So, Icheb,” B’Elanna sat in the worn chair that used to belong to her and Tom.  “Tell us.”

 

During the short trip from the space station back to the ship, Icheb’s mien had changed.  While B’Elanna and Tom had digested the new information between themselves, Naomi had found him silent.  She’d grown to know the look well, and had learned to let him be.  He’d come to her when he was ready. 

 

“Six days from now.” He mumbled.

 

“What?”  Naomi moved to his side, her hand on his arm. 

 

“Six days.” He looked past her to Tom and B’Elanna.

 

“Until what, Icheb?” Naomi pressed. “Until what?” 

 

“This,” He pointed down at the activated padd. “I calculated it. Based on the space-time contin-”

 

“ _Icheb_ ,” B’Elanna soothed, shaking her head as she took his hand in hers. She and Tom had meant to come here to grieve – not to start a new hare-brained expedition. 

 

For all these years, they had been the last of the crew to tolerate the young couple. Late nights in their quarters, even after long duty shifts and while she was nursing Miral, she had poured over the teeniest, meaningless minutiae that they had dredged up during that day. And Tom too - he would tell them stories and entertain their flights of fancy. 

 

_It was late – far past Naomi’s bedtime, but Sam tolerated her daughter’s absence. She thought over the past two years and how much things had changed.  Naomi had changed.  Well, she breathed out a solemn breath – everyone had.  Not long ago, they had come across a degrading deep space probe. And like nearly everything they’d come across in the Delta Quadrant, the content was unbelievable._

_It was from another Voyager; from the echoes of themselves they’d left on the Y-Class planetoid all those years ago.  They’d thought nearly nothing of what they had done there; giving pieces of their DNA to the biomimetic compound was benign and harmless.  Or so they’d thought.  It turned out those copies had set out in their own Voyager.  Convinced they were the actual crew, they’d forgotten their origins. And for nearly two years they’d travelled, following much the same course as the original Voyager and her crew.  Until they'd started to degrade and die, leaving only the probe as a remnant of who and what they were._

_The probe was comprised of a mix of Delta Quadrant alloys – nothing endemic to Voyager herself other than the information.  There were logs, star charts, but most of all – data from engineering. The copies had created a new warp drive, capable of exceeding warp ten.  When she’d gotten the schematics, B’Elanna was shocked that she herself hadn’t thought of it.  But sometimes, introspection leads to the greatest discoveries._

_Safely implemented within the year, the new drive had shaved twenty-seven years off their journey.  And it was projected that they would reach home in less than three years._

_Naomi sat comfortably on the floor of Tom and B’Elanna’s quarters, the baby propped in her arms so she could examine the little face with its tiny ridges while she slept. Still, every time she looked at them, she was reminded of her own spikes._

_“Tom?” Naomi asked softly, careful not to wake the sleeping bundle._

_“Yes, Naomi,” He barely looked up from the book in his hands._

_“Do you think that Chakotay loved the Captain?”_

_The question shook him for no other reason than it was something he himself thought on more than he should admit.  “I think so, Naomi,” he answered her softly._

_“I think he did,too. And I think she loved him back.  Tom?”_

_“Yes, Naomi?”_

_“Do you think they’re dead?”_

_Tom sat back and breathed a sigh.  “I don’t know.”_

_“I don’t think they are,” She looked up at him.  “I think some people live forever.”_

_“No one lives forever,” Tom laughed softly, careful not to raise his voice and rouse the sleeping Klingon in the next room._

_“Some do.”_

_Her indignancy brought an even bigger boyish grin to his face before he returned to his book. “I’ll take your word for it.”_

 

When everyone else rolled their eyes, they had been patient.  For a long time, B’Elanna felt that she owed it to the two of them.  No, not for anything they’d done, but for the people that they were – how much their collectively gentle humanity had taught her as a person and softened her heart.

 

 “I know what you’re thinking.” Tom breathed.  “But it’s not possi-“ 

 

“It is!” Naomi bolted up from the couch, impassioned with a renewed vigour.  “And I think I know of someone who can help us.” 


	154. Chapter 154

 

“Naomi,” Icheb pulled on her hand as they walked the promenade by their old apartment.  “You’ve been quiet all night.”

 

“I’m just thinking,” She smiled at him and leaned in close to the warmth rolling off his body as they walked the long promenade. “I don’t remember San Francisco being this cold.” 

 

“It’s December.” Icheb reminded her. “Nearly Christmas.”

 

“That’s right,” She gave a smile at her own forgetfulness. “I forgot.  Where did we promise to spend the holiday, again?”

 

“With your parents,” He recalled. “Your mother hasn’t stopped talking about it for months.  Are you sure you’re all right?” 

 

“Fine, Icheb.” She feigned impassive nonchalance as they continued their stroll. 

 

But he knew her better.  “Here.” A tug on her hand brought her to sit on one of the old park benches.  These peripheral grounds around the Academy were sentimentally decorated and fittingly titled, Captains’ Park. 

 

Lost or dead Starfleet captains had their own benches with their names engraved on commemorative plaques.  It had become a tradition for cadets to flock to their hero’s benches on warm days once class had let out. 

 

Naomi’s favourite had always been this one: Captain Janeway’s.  But, in her eyes, it didn’t just belong to that one person. 

 

When Naomi had thought of the brave and beautiful woman, she’d always imagined the man next to her. Somehow, one didn’t seem to fit without the other.  So, on her first day at the Academy, she’d found the bench and carved Chakotay’s name beside hers. 

 

“This bench?” Naomi let out a laugh at his sentimentality.  “Oh, Icheb, how were you ever Borg? You’re too much of a romantic.” 

 

“So you always say.”  His lips curled into a beatific smile and his fingers traced her beloved spikes. 

 

“I remember,” Naomi whispered. “Long ago, a boy who would have thought that pursuits of the heart were irrelevant.”  She watched his smile grow even more and exquisitely illuminate by the moon over the bay.

 

Naomi thought it bittersweet that he, Seven, Mezoti, Azan, and Rebi all had the most beautiful smiles she’d ever seen. And not for the first time she wondered how many more beautiful smiles were hidden behind that stringently emotionless green/grey miasma. Lost forever. 

 

“That boy,” Icheb explained as he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips.  “Was very foolish.  You saved me, Naomi.”

 

A flush burned her cheeks and she looked down to their joined hands.  “I lied to Tom and B’Elanna tonight.” 

 

“I know you did,” He murmured as she untangled their fingers and ran them over the worn engraving.

 

“I can’t give up on them,” Naomi spoke ardently.

 

“I know,” He watched the gentle movement of her long, slim fingers over the name she’d carved all those years ago. “I can’t either.”

 

“So,” A big grin came over her. “You’ll do it with me.”

 

“When…” He drew near to her and kissed her lips chastely. “Have we ever done anything separately?” 

 

She laughed and nodded her head causing their noses to brush and spurring her to kiss him again.  “Just checking.” 

 

They sat in silence for a long while, simply looking out over the bay – each absorbed in their own thoughts. “Naomi?” 

 

“Yes, Icheb?” She looked at him tentatively, knowing what he would say before the words left his lips. 

 

“Do things ever not feel right to you?”

 

“Yes,” She breathed a weight off her shoulders with the admission.  “Sometimes I look around and think that things were meant to happen differently.”

 

“I often wonder if we feel that way because it's true, or because we are idealists.”

 

“Idealists.” Naomi laughed loudly. “Neelix used to call me an idealist.” 

 

“He said that because you see the good in people.” Icheb squeezed her hand lovingly. “If this works, even if it doesn’t, we’ll lose our jobs and likely go to jail.” 

 

“I know,” She sighed.  “But we have to, don’t we?” 

 

There was no hesitation to his answer. “Captain Janeway did anything for her crew. It would make us less than Voyagers to do nothing.” 

 

She turned her body, her elbow meeting the back of the bench as she tried and failed to control the smile that threatened to split her face in two.  “I knew there was I reason why I married you.”

 

“I thought it was because of my excellent skills in kadiskot,” He poked her in the shoulder. 

 

“You _cheat_ at kadiskot, Icheb.  But it’s refreshing; at least there’s one thing that you can’t do that I can. Even if it’s a child’s game.”  

 

He smiled at her truth and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hair.  “We should tell Seven. She will want to know.” 

 

“She’s on Alpha Centauri, Icheb. She won’t make it back on time.”

 

“Tuvok won’t approve.” Icheb knew the statement was already moot.  Long ago, they’d found the old Vulcan’s soft spot; Captain Janeway.  No, he wouldn’t authorise the mission if he knew about it ahead of time, but one they were already there, they doubted he’d say no.

 

“Tom and B’Elanna will be mad.” He listed the negatives as a means of playing Devil’s advocate.  Fortunately or unfortunately, the equivocal argument was having the opposite of its intended affect; rather than dissuading them, it only convinced them further.

 

“I know.” 

 

“So we’re doing it,” She looked up at him from where her head lay on his shoulder and kissed the underside of his jaw.

 

“It seems that way,” He smiled and moved his head to catch her lips, moving his tongue against hers, sharing her breath. “Let’s go home…” 

 

/

 

“What’s this?”  Naomi picked up the small box on the familiar kitchen table.

 

“Starfleet,” Miral looked up from her padd onto which she had downloaded and read through the Academy’s first semester quantum mechanics textbook.  “They want to make mom a lieutenant commander.” 

 

“It's about time,” B’Elanna glanced back at her precocious sixteen year old.  “I’ve been a lieutenant since you were born!” 

 

“That’s wonderful, B’Elanna,” Naomi gushed, proud of her friend and mentor.   

 

“Thanks,” She opened the cabinet and took down three plates.   “They want to promote Tom to Captain.” 

 

“Can you imagine?”  The sixteen year old rolled her eyes and laid down her reading in anticipation of food. 

 

“No,” Her mother shuddered.  “I can’t see your father anywhere but behind a helm. He’s not serious enough for a command post.” 

 

“I don’t think he wants it either,” Naomi said.

 

“He doesn’t,” B’Elanna corroborated. “Now,” She breathed in the smell of breakfast.  “Let’s eat.”

 

“Yum,” Naomi looked at the food and salivated. “This looks fantastic, B’Elanna.”

 

“Mmm,” The older woman took a seat at the table. “Eat up.  There’s more where this came from.  We’ll leave when we’re done.” 

 

“Two weeks on Voyager,” Miral bubbled. “All my friends are jealous.”

 

“I’ll bet,” Naomi laughed through a mouthful of eggs. “My friends at the Academy were jealous when they’d learned I grew up on Voyager.” 

 

“They all said they wanted to go,” She boasted. “Mom said I could spend the time in Engineering, right?” 

 

“We’ll see,” B’Elanna winked. “If it’s not too busy.”

 

“How’s your application coming?” Naomi changed the subject. 

 

“I already sent it,” Miral remembered. “Last week.” 

 

“Nervous?”

 

“No,” The young girl shook her head confidently. “I’m hoping that having the last name ‘Paris’ will pull some strings.” 

 

“To say nothing of nepotism!” B’Elanna laughed and turned to Naomi.  “Where’s Icheb this morning?” 

 

“He has something to do,” She kept her gaze and hoped B’Elanna didn’t catch her disquiet.  

 

“Oh, okay,” B’Elanna nodded and took another bite of her breakfast.  “Miral, are you packed?”

 

“He said he wouldn’t be too long.” She added quickly and then rolled her eyes behind closed lids.  She’d never been good at lying or being evasive.  Icheb always said she was an open book.  And most of the time he was right. 

 

“Calm down, Naomi,” B’Elanna put her hand on her friend’s and moved her coffee cup out of the way.  “No more coffee for you this morning,” she winked. “We’d better get going. You know how Tuvok gets if we aren’t there at least five hours early.”  She ended sarcastically. 

 

“Mmm,” Naomi nodded understandingly. “I don’t think he’d admit it, but I think going back to the Delta Quadrant makes him tense.”

 

“I know the feeling.  Even after all this time, I still get nervous.” B’Elanna collected their plates from the table and deposited them in the recycler. “All right, you two,” She laid a kiss on Miral’s hair. “Let’s go.” 


	155. Chapter 155

Her heart raced uncomfortably with each step back to her quarters.  Icheb hadn’t contacted her since he left their apartment this morning.  “Computer,” Naomi beckoned just as she rounded the corning. “Locate I-“

 

“Naomi.” The man in question bumped into her and caught her upper arms, halting her fall. 

 

“Icheb!” She threw her arms around him in relief, forgetting Starfleet protocol and glad that no one had been in their vicinity to catch their affectionate display. Quickly, she stepped out of his arms and straightened her back as she took a good look at him.  “Did you get it?” 

 

“Yes,” He nodded. 

 

“Did anyone see you?” 

 

“No,” He shook his head, still astonished.  “It almost makes me question Starfleet security protocol! I just entered my security code, walked in, and there it was.” 

 

“Shh!” She smiled and put her index finger to her lip. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

 

“I do not understand.” His hand found purchase on the small of her back as they made their way down the hall.  “There was no horse…” 

 

“It’s a saying,” She swatted his chest playfully. “Jenna used to say it.”

 

The unbidden memory of her first year roommate at the Academy crept into her mind. 

 

_“Naomi!” Her friend’s oddly twanged accent echoed off the walls of their living quarters.  “You home?”_

_Naomi pushed at the shoulders of the boy on top of her, breaking the seal of his lips with hers.  “Shit!” She caught her breath enough to muster a shout back.  “I’m in my room, Jenna! I’ll be right out.”_

_“Lord Almighty!” Not having heard the last part of Naomi’s veiled attempt at privacy, she continued on down the hall, keen to share her news.  “Naomi, you are never going to believe-“ She stopped short at scene that met her – a half naked Icheb and a nearly naked Naomi. “Oh,” She stood for a moment before the scene registered and proceeded to do a perfect about face. “Hi, Icheb.”_

_“Hello, Jenna,” His monotone was muffled by his sweater going on over his head. “How are you?”_

_“Just fine, thanks,” She spoke awkwardly to the wall.  “Ye know, Naomi – Icheb – I’m just gonna make myself scarce as a hen’s teeth. You two have fun.”_

_“Wait,” Naomi ran out of her room after her roommate.  “Sorry, Jenna. We’re just – we just.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry.”_

_“Oh I don’t mind!”  She gave an enigmatic smile, picked up her bag, and headed out again.  “You take your time.  Just make sure Icheb doesn’t get caught on the way out!”_

_“Naomi,” Icheb reappeared a moment later, sweater off again and trousers suspiciously missing as well.  “Hens do not have teeth.”_

_“That’s right, Icheb,” Naomi laughed all the way to his arms and tugged him back to the bedroom. “It’s just a saying…”_

 

“Precisely,” He deadpanned.  “I never understood anything Jenna said.”

 

“I remember…” She smiled and rolled her eyes.  

 

“How was your morning with B’Elanna?”

 

“Fine,” Naomi all but shoved him into the empty turbolift.  “Deck Three.”

 

Icheb leaned against the far wall and hug his head. “Do you think we can still do this?”

 

“Yes,” She bit the inside of her lip nervously. “We haven’t come this far for nothing. We’ve waiting for something like this for all these years.  We can’t just give up.”

 

“I was just testing your gumption,” He smirked, tugging at her sleeve as they crossed the threshold into Astrometrics. “Did B’Elanna suspect anything?” 

 

“No,” Naomi closed her eyes.  “But she almost did.  You know how terrible I am at lying.” 

 

Icheb walked over to his accustomed post and entered a set of commands, bringing up the schematic they’d created nearly a week ago. “We’ll have to work fast. I calculated it this morning; by the time we reach the Delta Quadrant in two days, we’ll have precisely forty minutes to open the rift and locate their biosigns.”

 

“It won’t take Starfleet that long to realise that something’s been stolen, if they don’t know already.” Naomi leaned against the computer console.  There was urgency in her voice and a leaden weight in her stomach that she knew had come to settle permanently.  “Fingers crossed they won’t find out before we can get to them.” 

 

Alone in the room where they spent a majority of their time, Icheb took the opportunity to comfort her.  “Naomi.”  He tilted her downcast gaze up to meet his.  “Hey.”

 

She grew a smile when she saw the arrangement of his fingers.  “Hey.”

 

Breaking protocol for what seemed like the hundredth time, he laid a kiss to her nose before he pulled away and returned to the console.  “We’d better get back to work before Tuvok thinks we’re neglecting our duties.”

 

“ _We are_ neglecting our duties,” Naomi pointed out with a familiar glint to her blue eyes. . 

 

“Yes,” He answered matter-of-factly. “But no one needs to know that.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” She giggled and set back to the list that she’d been given earlier that day.

 

Over the last sixteen years, Voyager had been central to the Federation’s mission of charting the Delta Quadrant. In that time, they’d set up several star bases, made allies with many of the Quadrant’s less hostile species, and initiated trade and commerce. 

 

Species like the Devore and some factions of the Kazon still resisted the Federation’s attempt at peace, but more and more they were being pushed off to the side.  For too long the Delta Quadrant had been unstable and many of the more peaceful regimes, most notably the Talaxians, were keen to sign onto the vision that the Federation offered. 

 

Neelix had been a crucial part of the early negotiations.  It was almost a full year after Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay had disappeared that Voyager came across a colony of displaced, yet highly prolific, Talaxians.

 

She remembered the day clearly because Neelix had gone missing.  Everyone had been on edge, reminded all too keenly of their most recent loss. But when the away team was found, Naomi remembered greeting a different Neelix back to the ship.  

 

Later she’d discovered that he’d fallen in love with a woman and her son who lived in the colony.  And somehow, he’d found a purpose to his life – more than what had been before. 

 

Besides Naomi who was growing up even without him, there was nothing keeping him aboard.  Not after the Captain disappeared.  He found a chance at happiness – a chance to move on – and he took it with the official title of being the Federation’s first ambassador to the Delta Quadrant.

 

It seemed like a million years ago now when she thought about it:  the days when Captain Janeway had agonised over a few thousand light years.  Really, it was a baby’s step in retrospect - ever since they’d figured out the intricacies of the quantum slipstream drive.

 

Thanks again to their Copies, the information contained in the probe contained more than just insight on the warp drive, but novel use of their technology as well.  And together, B’Elanna with her team of engineers on the ship, and later with the help of scientists back on Earth, they were able to safely equip Federation vessels with the use of slipstream technology. 

 

She looked back at the man behind her. She smiled when she saw him working away diligently.  Maybe it was his time in the Collective, or perhaps that was how his species operated naturally, but he had always been able to compartmentalise better than her.

 

Naomi was given to flights of fancy and dawdling. She always wondered how she was able to get through the Academy.  For Icheb, the coursework had been simple and he’d graduated top of his year without a second thought.  But she’d struggled just to pass in some courses. 

 

And so here she stood, true to form, half paying attention to the work in front of her, but half dreaming as well. “Icheb?” 

 

“Hmm?”  He mumbled. 

 

“Why twenty thirteen, do you suppose?”

 

She heard him stop his work as he turned to her. “Maybe there is no reason, Naomi. Maybe it was just a mistake. How far along are you on reconfiguring the sensor array?” 

 

“Almost done.”  She waited in silence for a few moments and then beckoned him again. “Icheb?” 

 

“Yes, Naomi.”  His voice was kind and tendered with automated amusement.   

 

“What do you think their lives are like?”

 

He stopped his work then in earnest. “I don’t know. Happy,” For a moment he reflected on the words that rolled off his tongue.  “I hope.” 

 

“Icheb?” 

 

He laughed and walked the step next to her. “Naomi?” 

 

“Do you think we’ll really find them?”

 

“I don’t know,” He soothed her. “But we’ll try.”


	156. Chapter 156

“Just breathe,” He told her while he rubbed her back.

 

“Goddammit!” Kathryn’s head fell back against his shoulder and she closed her eyes.  She was panting heavily at this point.  “You men have it easy.”

 

“Now, now,” He chided her. 

 

“If I wasn’t in so much damn pain I’d hit yo-ow!” She braced herself back against him through another contraction. “We’re never doing this again. Where’s B’Elanna when you need her?”

 

He laughed.  “That’s a question I can’t answer.” 

 

Kathryn smiled at the absence of contractions, a moment of reprieve.  “Maybe she could just beam the baby out of me.  Try – what did she call it?” 

 

“Call what?” He was only half listening to her through his building anxiety. 

 

“A skeletal lock.  That’s it.  A skeletal- _fffffffuuuuuccccckkkk_!”  She cried again.

 

Besides this being their first child, this had also been a night of other firsts; a very enlightening preview of his wife’s handle on all array of swear words and epithets – most of them directed at him.

 

Despite the relative cold of the room, Chakotay was sweating more than he had mid-July playing tag with the boys at the summer camp.

 

Regrettably, he’d indulged her and they’d waited too long.  And now, he thought, it was nearly too late. 

 

She’d played him; for weeks now she’d been trying to persuade him and Grace into letting her give birth at home. Furtively, she relayed to him that she wanted to stay out of the hospital.  Perhaps she’d read some material online about the pathogenic environment of the institutions, or, more believably, it was just Kathryn’s general loathing of the place rooted in her deep dislike of sickbay. 

 

Grace had been on the fence leaning away from indulging her, whereas Chakotay had been adamantly, and very vocally, against it. So they’d compromised: once the contractions started coming, they’d leave immediately and go to the hospital. But at the time, they hadn’t taken into account the storm, or how quickly she’d go into labour.  

 

“Kathryn,” He rubbed in circles on her back and pleaded with her. “Please, we have _to go.”_

 

Her skin was just as clammy as his – the T-shirt she wore completely soaked through.  “I _can’t_ , Chakotay,” She gritted, the last part of her sentence ending in a cry as tears started pouring down her cheeks. “I can’t move I’m in so much _pain_.” 

 

“I’ll call the hospital,” He reached shakily for the phone on the table.  “We’ll get an… we’ll get an ambulance.” 

 

“They won’t make it,” She felt every movement keenly – the contractions stronger and she cried out.   “ _God…”_

 

He tried to resurrect everything he’d read. He scanned the pages in his mind, but he couldn’t identify anything important.  “Now I know...” She tried to laugh, but her voice was stringy and broken. 

 

“What?” He engaged her, trying to sooth her in any way he could, while he dialled 911.  “What do you know?” 

 

“Why Grace talked about an epidural – _Oh_ ,” Her hand grabbed at his and squeezed so tightly that the bones crunched grotesquely. 

 

“I’m calling,” The number rang through the cold room.  

 

_“Hello. 911, how can I help you?”_

She grabbed his hand again before he could answer and squeezed harder than she had before, causing him to suck in his breath. “Hello?” The greeting was nothing more than an effeminate shriek. 

 

 _“Hello? Sir?”_ The woman’s voice on the other end of the line was calm and reassuring. 

 

“My wife is in labour,” He explained calmly as he ran his fingers through her damp hair.  “And I don’t think she’ll make it to the hospital.” 

 

Kathryn’s high-pitched scream cut through the phone conversation as she bolted forward, clutching her stomach in agony.

 

_“How far are you from the hospital sir?”_

 

"Fourteen Laurel Street," He told her calmly before his attention was drawn by the sudden gush of bright blood that soaked the soft material of the couch.  _“_ Oh god,” His heart was racing uncomfortably in his chest. 

 

_“Sir? Talk to me.  Tell me what’s going on.”_

 

“She’s bleeding,” He didn’t realise he was crying. “Kathryn?” 

 

She reached down for him.  “Kathryn?”  She was starting to pale and and distress played out in her face. 

 

_“Sir. The ambulance is on its way. It might take a while, but I can walk you through-“_

“Chakotay,” Kathryn breathed heavily, getting the urge to push but clearly unable to.  “I can’t push. Is the baby okay?  Did my waters break?” 

 

In all the books he’d read, blood gushing from the birth canal was never right.  And suddenly, in this moment, nothing mattered.  He couldn’t recall his command training, the calm he’d been called to display under pressure.  Now, he couldn’t recall anything, even his own name as he watched his wife helplessly.

 

“She’s bleeding,” He stuttered into the phone as he moved between her legs.  “The baby’s head isn’t in the canal and she’s bleeding.  What do I do?”  He sobbed and looked up at his wife. 

 

The colour had drained from her face and she was breathing heavily.  “ _Chakotay.”_ Her voice was stringy.

 

He took her hand and moved up to her, cradling her face next to his.  “What do I do?” He sobbed into the phone next to him. “What do I do?” 

 

“ _Help is on the way, Sir.  Is your wife able to push?”_

_“_ No,” He recognised the signs of shock – pallour, tachycardia, tachypnoea, cool extremities…   She was haemorrhaging and there was nothing he could do.  “Kathryn?” 

 

She gave a slight nod of her head. Her voice was barely audible as she met his gaze with unfocused eyes.    “The baby?” 

 

“Is going to be fine; she’s just fine, Kathryn,” He ran his fingers through her wet hair.  “The ambulance is coming and we’ll go to the hospital. It’s going to be just fine.” He said the words more for himself than for her. 

 

 _“Sir,”_ The operator’s soothing voice permeated the room.  _“The ambulance is on its way.”_

Even half unconscious, she wasn’t naïve. She knew he was lying. “Chakotay?” 

 

“Shh,” He tried to hold back a sob, but failed miserably. “Just rest.  The ambulance is coming.  We’ll get to the hospital in a few minutes.” 

 

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Fat tears strolled down her cheeks.  She was tired, and cold – colder than she’d ever felt.  “ _I’m so sorry.”_

“Shhh,” He held her, feeling the life drain out of her. “Please don’t _leave_ me.” 

 

Her hand came up to cradle his face. “ _I love you.”_

_“_ I love you, too, Kathryn.  And you’re going to be just fine,” He prayed.  “Please stay with me.  I can’t do any of this without you. I don’t know how to be without you. I love you.” 

 

But she’d lost consciousness before he could finish his sentence.  “Kathryn!” He pushed at her shoulders, looking at her through glassy eyes filled with tears that wouldn’t stop. “Damnit, Kathryn!”

 

And in a moment, he realised that he was all alone.

 

_“Sir?”_

 

“Please come quickly,” He told her calmly and cradled Kathryn’s cool body against his own.  “My wife and daughter are dying.” 


	157. Chapter 157

The corridors are dark and empty at this hour as the young woman walked briskly to main engineering. Blessedly, B’Elanna would be in bed. But if things went as planned – not for very long. 

Naomi’s heart thumped at a quick and steady gallop. It was just a matter of time before the gamma shift bridge crew copped on that they were going in the wrong direction and alerted the Captain. You see, unbeknownst to the training pilot, the coordinates were wrong and so was the sensor data being fed to the bridge...  

At this hour, engineering was working with a skeleton crew.  Her presence would go unnoticed.  Or so she hoped. She wore a timepiece on her wrist, allowing her to watch the time pass – timing their operation to the second.  Unused to the mechanics of the old device, the beat kept her focused.  

_Tick, tick, tick…_

“ _Bridge to Lieutenant Wildman_.” Came a familiar detached voice through the comm.

 _Shit!_ She walked through the doors to engineering with the rucksack under her arm. “Naomi here, Captain.”

“ _Lieutenant, please report to the ready room.”_   

“Yes, Sir.” Naomi kept walking towards her intended target when a feeling of claustrophobic agitation set in. _Don’t panic!_ She told herself.  “ _Naomi to Icheb,_ ”  She whispered into her comm. badge, nodding as she passed Rogers on her way to the console in front of the warp core. 

“ _Icheb here, Naomi. I just got called to the ready room_.”  

“So did I. I think we just got caught...” She spoke softly, looking around her as inconspicuously as she could as she took the device out of the small black bag. “Stall as long as you can,” She told him.  “We have to go to the bridge anyway.”

She visualised his calm features and, as usual, they gave her peace.  _“Work quickly,”_ He whispered.  _“We don’t have that much time.”_

“I know,” The device was light in her hand, small, and it easily fit onto the console’s port. She was pleased with herself so far – at how easy this had been.  It gave her hope. “It’s in.” 

The screen in front of her lit up and she entered a series of encryptions known only to her and Icheb.  They had designed them in Borg cipher and to an untrained eye they were near impossible to break.  Even to Tuvok and B’Elanna.  Her actions reminded her of the time when the Pitcher Plant had invaded the conscience of the crew and how Seven had taught her to lock the rest of the ship out of the main system. 

 _"Pay attention to me," Seven's authoritative tone siphoned her attention. "If this indicator begins to flash, enter the following series of commands." Her hands moved gracefully on the green and black console as her young self memorised the orderly sequence._  

She walked softly over to engineering’s mainframe, just opposite the core. “Excuse me, Lieutenant?”  The voice was unknown to her, likely a cadet fresh out of the Academy on assignment for the graveyard shift. 

She looked up and recognised the young woman’s rank as the one she’d presumed.  “Yes, Cadet?”

"Um, Lieutenant?" She looked nervously between the small black box synching with the main deflector’s console and the woman in front of her, "No one authorised any work in this area." 

_Damnit!_

Naomi stifled the urge to roll her eyes and panic.  “At ease, Cadet,” The older woman saw the girl deflate considerably.  “My orders are new.”

The cadet bowed and stepped away and Naomi redoubled her efforts.  Her fingers worked quickly, making one peach-coloured blur.  The useless interruption had cost her precious seconds and they had no margin for error. _“Naomi to Icheb,”_ She whispered.  

“ _Icheb here_.”

“We’re in.” 

Within seconds the alarm bells and red flashing lights started off all over engineering.  Unnoticed in the maelstrom, she quickly entered one more command and then rushed back to the deflector’s console to enter the rest of the sequence. 

It was merely seconds before a familiar voice shouted through the doors, ushering in a dishevelled woman with hair all a crazy array and turtleneck half hanging out of her standard uniform pants. “What the _Hell_ is going on here?"  

And even though it shouldn’t have, the outburst caused Naomi to smile as she hid in the shadows and made her way towards the door before an unexpected and firm hand caught her arm. 

 _“Damnit,_ Naomi!” B’Elanna’s eye caught the black box on the console.  “What the _hell_ have _you_ done?” 

Naomi pursed her lips and gave her friend a look. “B’Elanna-“  

“ _You didn’t!_ ” She kept her eyes trained and tried her best glare.  But Naomi didn’t see it, nor was she intimated by it; all she saw were the seconds that were flying past. 

_Tick, tick, tick…_

She wrenched her arm away and fled towards the doors.“I have to go.”   

B’Elanna watched her leave, torn between going after her and trying to sort out the mess.  The first option, however, won.  And with a loud growl to the heavens, she raced out of engineering at a sprint. 

“ _Tuvok to Lieutenant Wildman_.” Tuvok’s voice never changed be it in battle, or while he was soothing a child. It was one of the things that made him such an excellent leader.  But in this moment, Naomi heard a decidedly un-Tuvokian grit to his normally level baritone.  _“Report to the ready room immediately- Captain,”_ Naomi heard Tom’s shaky voice on the ready room's comm. “ _Tuvok you’d better see this.”_

She breathed a sigh of relief and quickened her pace.   “Naomi to Icheb.”  

“ _The rift is open, Naomi_!” His voice sang with pride as hurried out of Astrometrics. “ _I’ll see you on the bridge_.” 

 _“Naomi!”_ The irate voice behind her quickened her steps to the open doors now in view. 

“Not now, B’Elanna!” She called over her shoulder, hoping the older woman wouldn’t catch up with her.  

“Naomi, wait!” B’Elanna ran faster and caught up with her just as she ran into the lift. “Damnit, Naomi!”

“Deck One!”  The two women panted, staring at one another from opposite sides of the small confine. 

“What the _hell_ are you doing?!” B'Elanna's hands gestured wildly. “You said you’d drop it!”

Naomi shook her head, eyes steely, as the lift slowed and the doors opened onto the bridge.“You know I couldn’t do that.” 

The whole crew was stopped, rooted in awe. Even Tuvok was glued to the spot. 

Almost none of the bridge crew would have recognised it as being anything other than a breath taking spatial anomaly.  But to Tom, Tuvok, and B’Elanna the sight was dreadfully familiar. And it was - _striking_ if one knew not the force behind it.  Swirls of blue and purple collided and intersected around a halo in the middle.  It enticed the viewer and like a siren’s call, it drew them into its fancy. 

“Icheb,” Naomi tore her eyes away, ever cognisant of the timepiece on her wrist, and found the man in question at Harry’s old console.  

"I'm scanning for their life signs," He answered her with cold sweat beading off his brow.   

Shaken from the trance, B’Elanna moved up behind them, followed by Tuvok and then Tom. "I can't find them!" He cried.   

The dread was setting into her stomach. “ _Lieutenant_.” Tuvok’s voice was a warning and Naomi felt his confusedly reproachful stare.  She met his gaze, and in the moment he knew. 

Frustrated, B’Elanna pushed the younger man away as her fingers ran over the console in a practiced manoeuvre. “There are three,” She read. “Two faint, nearly gone.” 

“Beam them directly to sick bay,” Tuvok barked - an urgency lacing his even tone as his finger tips turned white from his grip on the console. _“Now!”_


	158. Chapter 158

He closed his eyes with one hand on her pulse, the other one her belly, as he listened outside for the sounds of the sirens. But there was nothing.  Only silence.   

His face buried in her neck, he sobbed and spoke sweet nothings to her.  Telling her how strong and beautiful she was.  He told her how much he loved her, and he begged her over and over not to leave him. Because he knew that this time, unlike all the rest, she wouldn’t be coming back.  

He tried to lay next to her fully on the couch – tried to will his warmth, his _life_ , into her.  But in spite of all his zealously vain efforts, all he noticed was the near-absent pulse, the shallowness of her breaths, and the absence of movement in her belly. 

His world had ended and he didn’t know what to do. 

“ _Please,”_ He kissed the cooling skin of her neck.  “Don’t leave, Kathryn.  Please.  I’ll _do_ anything, _say_ anything, _be_ anything – just please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. Please. _Please_ …”

The incantation became a mantra that he repeated to her over and over again until something strange and unexpected happened. 

Until a familiar haze of blue tingled his body.

Until in a moment, he found himself in distantly familiar surroundings and his wife suddenly gone. 

“Commander!” The officious tone of the Doctor cut through his grief as he was gently and firmly pushed off to the side of the brightly lit room and a scurry of people he’d never seen before huddled around the woman who’d unceremoniously been wrenched from his side.  

Helplessly, his vision narrowed until all he could see was her.  Nothing mattered to him but her.  He tried to get closer, but the throng of people kept him away, their business and focus providing a barrier to his meddlesomely grieving hands. 

 _“Twenty-five milligrams of cordrazine!”_    

_“Quickly – a transverse incision across the midline.  Do it now!”_

Again he heard that recognisable tone – the one he’d often dreaded hearing for so many years.  Though now, suddenly, it was an angels’ choir,  a harmony too sweet to describe in mortal terms.  

“ _Her blood pressure is falling rapidly – eighty over fifty. Give me five units, NOW!”_

“Chakotay!”  He looked up when another conversant voice permeated his dream sequence. She looked older now, much more beautiful, but she was still his old friend. 

“ _B’Elanna_?” He looked behind her at the sandy haired man following closely on her heels.  “ _Tom_? What-?” 

“Chakotay,” Tom caught his arm on one side, while B’Elanna took their other just he stumbled to the ground, too overwhelmed to hold himself up any longer. Was it selfish, even narrow minded, of him, that he didn’t even see them?  His friends – people he’d once loved.  What he must look like to them – nearly a dog on the ground, eyes dumbly rooted to the commotion on the other side of the room.

But he didn’t care.  Kathryn was dying and he didn’t care.  

_“Quickly. Give me thirty cc’s of noradrenaline in a syringe! Damnit! It’s not working!”_

In his shock, individual words barely registered and he doubted they would until the Doctor came and told him about Kathryn. But the couple understood, too dumbstruck themselves to say anything.  So they sat with him – guarded him while he waited.   

And he waited. 

And he waited. 

And he _waited._


	159. Chapter 159

Consciousness came to her in waves. A hummed silence was the first thing she discerned that prompted her to open her eyes.  But, no, no; that was much too arduous a task at the moment. For it seemed that small leaden weights had affixed themselves to her eyelids and refused to budge. 

But soon, she precipitously remembered everything. _The baby_. _Chakotay._..

And in a wave of heart stopping panic, her eyes flew open. What she saw, however, was the farthest thing from what she expected.  What she saw broke her heart.

Ceiling tiles.

 _Voyager’s_ ceiling tiles _._

She closed her eyes again against the old, familiar sight as her hand moved stiffly over to her belly, hoping to feel the familiar, reassuring kick of the life she’d grown so accustomed to. But all that her hand met was flat, taut expanse with no evidence that a child had ever been there.  And so with a deep, dreadful breath, she filled her lungs with recycled air and let it out in a keening cry. 

All the wonderful things she’d lived with Chakotay. Finally being able to love him openly, becoming his wife, bearing his child, feeling that life move inside of her…  

Jan and Gregg. 

The children at the camp.  

Shannon and Henry. 

Her home. 

 _None_ of it was real. 

It seemed that like everything else in her life, it was nothing more than an illusion – a tantalising fabrication that she couldn’t have.  So she started to sob great tears that rolled down her cheeks and puddled in her hair. Her sore body rigoured in sadness, and there atop the hard, dismally familiar bed, she cried away the precious mirage until… 

“ _Kathryn_?”

She would recognise that soft, cherished voice anywhere. It was the voice she heard every day; the one that told her how beautiful she was, whispered words of love against her bare skin. It was the one that had soothed to their child to contented sleep, and sang her songs in the mellifluous intricacy of his native tongue.

“ _Kathryn_.” She felt a kiss on her forehead, and for a moment she thought that strange until she turned her head in the dim lights of the familiar room and found him sitting beside her. 

“Chakotay?”

That preciously beloved, radiant smile lit up his face. _“Hi._ ”  Shaky still, as though she might disappear, tender fingers trailed down over her features.  And it was as if he’d done it a thousand times before.  “Are you in pain?”  

“No.” Her voice was broken and confused in her lie. “What are you doing here?”

 It was a silly inquiry; he was always there when she woke up – they didn’t have to be lovers to offer that simple comfort. But it made him smile.  “I couldn’t leave, Kathryn,” He whispered. “I know I should have changed. They offered… but I couldn’t leave you.” 

“Changed?” Still convinced their life together had been nothing more than an aberration, much like Naomi’s Pitcher Plant’s, she promptly looked down at him preparing to see a Starfleet uniform when instead, what her her eyes met were a pair of blood-stained jeans. 

Jeans _. Blue jeans!_  

 _“Chakotay?”_ Tears started again in earnest as she followed his outfit up to the bundle cradled against his chest, nestled amid the now blood stained _Highland Prep_ hoodie.  “ _What…”_ Her bleary eyes were clouded with a mingling of relief and confusion as she kept her gaze trained on him.  “What’s going on?” 

Wetness sputtered out under his nose and eyes as he leaned forward and showed her the tiny bundle sleeping against his bare chest. “It’s a _girl_ , Kathryn,” His soft tone bubbled with the excitement he could finally let himself experience. “We have a little girl.”

Aching, her body wracked in great heaving sobs as she reached out to touch the small infant in her husband’s arms, now remembering fully what had happened.  “ _She’s okay_?”

Too overwhelmed with emotion, all he could do was nod and transfer the little girl to her mother as the two wept quietly together. “She’s okay,” He kissed her forehead, nodding against her.  “You’re okay. _I was_ _so worried_.”

“ _I know_ ,” She cried.  “ _I’m so sorry_.” 

“I know.” She kissed him then, a jittery hand behind his head that held him to her while she poured into it everything she felt until they fell away, wrought by fatigue, emotion, and endless relief. 

“Come lay down,” She whispered, stiffly moving to the side as she held the baby against her, making a small space for him until he fitted in beside her. 

Tears still poured out as he curled himself around her.  "I love you," He whispered.  

One arm around the tiny bundle, she reached behind to cradle his cheek in her hand.  "I know," Her voice shook with the emotion she felt as a wet kiss found itself onto her neck.  "Chakotay." 

"Yes?" 

The little girl lay swaddled, sleeping and blissfully unaware of its surroundings as her mother traced her little features in the dim night light.  "I love you." 

Heavy with fatigue, his lids started to close. _"I know."_

And soon they were asleep, and he held his precious family safely in his arm as they slumbered.  


	160. Chapter 160

_Propped up on two legs, Naomi looked up over her giant bowl of terra nut soufflé at the furry-faced Talaxian. _“Neelix?”__

 

_“Yes, Naomi,” He grinned.  “You’d better finish your soufflé. It’s not very good when it’s cold!”_

 

_She smiled and twirled her spoon around the bowl a few more times before taking another mouthful, enjoying the nutty vanilla flavour tickle her taste buds.  “What’s it like on the bridge?”_

 

_“Well..” He looked towards the ceiling and thought on her question, trying to come up with the type of answer Naomi was looking for. “It’s very busy.” Was all he seemed to muster._

 

_She frowned at his answer.  “Oh.  Well, what kinds of things do they do there?”_

 

_“All sorts of things, Naomi.” He grinned. “They look at stellar phenomena, and Tom flies the ship, and Tuvok runs diagnostics to make sure the ship is functioning…!”_

 

_“What sorts of things does the captain do?” Naomi got to the crux of her query._

 

_“Well…” Neelix thought on it.  “She makes all the decisions – where we’re going to go, who we’re going to meet.  She makes first contact with all the new species we come across. She makes decisions about the crew and organises away missions… Anything and everything!” He exclaimed with his hands out wide indicating the breadth of her responsibility._

 

_“Oh,” Naomi thought on it again.  “I bet she needs help with all of that.”_

 

_“She does!”  Neelix made an earnest face and nodded his head.  “That’s why she has Commander Chakotay.”_

 

_“Just Commander Chakotay?”  Naomi looked for an opportunity._

 

_“Well…” The furry Talaxian scratched his whiskers in thought.  “She also has Commander Tuvok, Seven… I help her sometimes, too.”_

 

_“Neelix?”_

 

_“Yes, Naomi.”_

 

_“Do you think she needs any more help?” The question was asked sheepishly_

 

_Neelix’s smile brightened at her intention. “Well I’m sure! Being a Captain is a big responsibility. I’m sure she could use all the help she could get.”_

 

_The smile that lit Naomi’s young face threatened to split her in two.  “What about a Captain’s Assistant?”_

 

_“Sure, why not!” He laughed in response._

 

_His surety emboldened Naomi, causing her nearly to float. “Can I tell you a secret?”_

 

_Neelix leaned in conspiratorially. “Of course.  I won’t tell.”_

 

_“One day I’m going to work on the Bridge,” She told him expectantly. “You see – I’m going to start out as Captain Janeway’s assistant – if she’ll let me of course – and then,” She took a deep, confident breath and puffed out her chest.  “Someday, I’m going to be Captain.  I just wish…” She looked down in momentary discouragement.  “That I didn’t have to wait so long.”_

 

_“Naomi,” Neelix cajoled her.  “Would you like a tour of the bridge?”_

 

_“Really?” Her eyes widened in sheer exhilaration. “Really, Neelix?”_

 

_“Well,” He patted her hand.  “I’ll ask the Captain, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. After all, a you can’t be the best Captain’s Assistant if you haven’t even seen the bridge!”_

 

The memory played through the young woman’s mind as she crossed the bridge into the ready room. As long as she’d been on Voyager, and as many times as she had been on this bridge, the wonder had never passed away.

 

She remembered the first time she’d been here. 

 

_She’d been shaking as she entered the turbolift – giddy as Neelix called for Deck One.  As many times as Naomi had been in the turbolift she had never been allowed to call for Deck One._

_Though only seconds, it felt as an eternity until the doors hissed open. And when they did, her eyes filled with a sense of stupefied awe._

_People were everywhere – in every corner.  Focused, engrossed.  The barely noticed her at first until at once the Captain stood and turned around._

_Though she’d known her her whole life, Captain Janeway still fascinated Naomi. How would one person be so beautiful and know everything?_

_Struck dumb in her presence, Naomi never knew quite what to say, how to stand, how to act – so she emulated what she thought the Captain would want. “Crewman Wildman, Captain,” Back ramrod and face as serious as she could make it, the young girl stood stringently at attention._

_A luminosity lit the older woman’s face and made the people around them chuckle. “Well,” The Captain cleared her throat and gave an imitation at gravity.  “Hello there, Crewman.  At ease!”_

_She let out a deep breath and dropped her shoulders, giving her own smile. “Permission to come onto the bridge, Ma’am?”_

_“Permission granted.” Janeway nodded and gave a wink, holding out her hand indicating for Naomi to join her.  It took all the young girl’s restraint not to sprint down the three steps onto the main level._

_The Commander had risen to join her.  “Hello, Crewman.”_

_“Commander,” She nodded her head and giggled._

_“So, Crewman,” Captain Janeway put her hand on Naomi’s shoulder and for a moment she thought she might burst.  “Neelix tells me that you’ve never seen the bridge.”_

_“Yes, Captain,” Naomi agreed, subtly moving close to her. "I mean... no, Ma'am."_

_“Well,” She shook her head in disapproval.  “It certainly wouldn’t do to have a Captain’s Assistant who’s never seen the bridge, would it?”_

_A big breath puffed out her chest as her eyes met her mother’s at the science station. She gave her a proud smile and nodded her encouragement.  “No, Captain.” Naomi looked up at her with wide, eager eyes. "Definitely not!"_

_“Come on,” She led her around the bridge and showed her everything, taking the time to explain what things were in child’s terms, but not speaking down to her._

_“Well, Naomi. What do you think? Should we take a look at the ready room?”_

_Too overwhelmed with joy and excitement to even speak, she simply looked up with a teeming grin and nodded her head to the affirmative.  “Yes, Captain!”_

Now, however, in this moment – the ready room held none of that childish wonder.  Standing at parade rest, she kept her head down.  Icheb stood next to her in a similar posture. 

 

“Lieutenants. Wildman,” Tuvok’s tone was measured, displaying none of the lividity he had on the bridge just moments ago. “Icheb.” 

 

“Yes, Captain,” With a collective breath, they tandemly squared their shoulders and met the Captain’s sharp eyes, awaiting the worst.

 

Directing his question at Naomi, Tuvok spoke slowly, as if conversing with small children. “Explain yourselves.”  

 

“Tu- _Captain_?” Naomi widened her eyes and looked between him and Icheb who gave her a small hint of an amused grin.

 

Standing from his chair, he picked up a padd and activated it.  “Theft,” he read. “Of Starfleet property – one astrophysical frequency deflector.  Forgery. Subversion-“ 

 

 _“Captain,”_ A hail from the bridge interrupted his monologue. 

 

“Go ahead,” He kept Naomi’s gaze.

 

“ _A small shuttle just decloaked off our port bow, Sir.  We’re being hailed_.” 

 

“Put it through to the Ready Room.”

 

“ _Aye, Sir_.”

 

Naomi and Icheb stayed planted to their spots, taking care to keep their faces properly contrite as Tuvok moved behind the desk and activated the clear display. 

 

 _“Tuvok,”_ The human male smiled amiably.  “ _It’s good to see you.”_

“I am sorry,” The Captain measured his features. “We are not acquainted.”

 

“ _My apologies_ ,” The man backtracked.  “ _Where are my manners? My name is Captain Ducane of the USS Relativity.”_  

 

If Vulcans could do an impression of a gawk, then Tuvok just accomplished it.  Naomi, however, stood with her mouth completely agape, while Icheb watched on in muted fascination.  

 

 _“According to my sensors,”_ Ducane continued. “ _It seems that Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay are aboard your ship.”_

 Tuvok squared his shoulders in an attempt to gain an upper hand in a fight he’d already lost. “I am not at liberty to say.”

 

“ _Of course not, Captain.  However,”_ Ducane leaned forward.  _“Would it loosen your tongue if I told you that I was responsible for their disappearance?”_

From his shuttle, Ducane watched amusedly as the scant reaction moved the Vulcan’s staid face.  “I will have a security detail meet you in the transporter room,” Tuvok replied. “It seems, indeed, that we have much to discuss.” 


	161. Chapter 161

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lads, what am I going to do with all of you and your kindness! Thanks a million for leaving so many kudos and beautiful comments. Wow. Thank you.

The harsh cry of a baby mingled with a gentle, warm touch on her bare shoulder stirred her.  Still unaccustomed, what she found when she opened her eyes wasn’t what she expected. 

Even amid her groggy haze, the woman above her was familiar – her face instantaneously recognisable.  “ _B’Elanna?”_ Kathryn blinked, still sure that perhaps her eyes were deceiving her.  Beyond her, another visage was rapidly realised.  “ _Doctor?”_

 

“She’s hungry,” B’Elanna spoke softly, holding the baby in practised arms as she indicated to her own breast.   

 

“I’m not surprised,” The Doctor looked on, taking out what looked to be a condensed version of a tricorder, running it over the infant before her mother.  “It’s been nearly five hours since she last fed.  How are you feeling Captain?”  There was something different about him, Kathryn thought - something more than just the alteration of his uniform.  Somehow, she thought, he was softer. 

 

“I-“ Kathryn cleared her throat of the morning hoarsness as she sat up stiffly, loosely holding the drape over her bare chest and glanced down.  “I… don’t know how.”  

 

“Well,” B’Elanna smiled wistfully. “That’s all right,” She held the baby and helped Kathryn position her.  “They practically do it themselves.”  Reflexively, the infant’s mouth opened around the nipple and clamped down with little goading or encouragement. 

 

“Ow!”  Kathryn jumped, letting out a small laugh after the initial shock. “I didn’t expect it to hurt.”

 

“She _is_ hungry!” B’Elanna laughed, not bothered with her former mentor’s nakedness as she ran her hands over the baby’s downy head.  “You’re lucky, Miral had a poor latch – it took _hours!”_

“ _Hours_ ,” The Doctor corroborated with a drole, practised roll of his eyes.   

 

Kathryn barely heard the conversation as she ran her fingers through the contentedly suckling little girl’s shock of black hair and marvelled at her honey skin.  This was the first time she’d really seen her.  _You look so much like your father,_ She thought.  _Just like I knew you would._

 

Button nose, and tiny black eyelashes coupled to little brows that arched over eyes whose colour she hadn’t seen yet. _Probably brown,_ she smiled to herself.  And perfect little hands that latched onto her breast with perfect little crinkles and turns, ending in the most perfect and dainty nails.   “Where is Chakotay?” Kathryn wanted to share this with him; she wanted them to marvel at her together. More than that, she needed him as her own residual uncertainty lingered, for he made everything real to her.

 

“Only in the next room taking a shower,” B’Elanna whispered.  “He’s been up for hours holding the baby, watching you sleep.  He hasn’t left your side since-” She stumbled over what to say as the emotion caught her tongue.   

 

“It’s all right, B’Elanna,” Kathryn met her gaze with a warm smile.  “It’s good to see you.”

 

B’Elanna tried to swallow her tears, but one or two insisted on falling.  “It’s good to see you too, Captain.” 

 

The use of her title caused her breath to stop. “Captain?” She repeated. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that.” 

 

For the first time since she’d woken, Kathryn noticed the room she was in.  The technology, she thought, was different with sleeker designs and sharper edges much like the tricorder she’d seen the Doctor use.  This was a private room, too – which Voyager’s sickbay didn’t have. “B’Elanna, what ship are we on?”

 

“Voyager,” B’Elanna blinked and looked around the room, realising how foreign it must look to the woman in front of her. “I suppose it just looks different...”

 

“So it does,” She sighed, looking back down at her chest and resuming her smile. 

 

“She’s perfect, Captain,” B’Elanna moved closer, but still kept her distance.  “She looks just like Chakotay.” 

 

“She does, doesn’t she?”  She glanced back up at B’Elanna.  “Just don’t tell Chakotay that – he’ll be _worse_ than he already is!” 

 

“Don’t tell me what?”  She heard a smile in his voice as the man himself appeared and quickly made way back to his family. 

 

“Nothing,” Kathryn gave a relieved smile and accepted his kiss.  “You’re already too smug.”

 

“And for good reason,” His large hand cradled the back of the infant’s head against her mother’s breast.  “She’s perfect.” 

 

“She is,” Kathryn nodded proudly. “Isn’t she?”

 

“Mm,” Chakotay sat beside her and kissed her hair. “ _Just like her mother_.”

 

Kathryn looked away from her husband’s tender gaze to her friend.  “B’Elanna tells me we’re on Voyager." 

 

“Yes,” He sobered.

 

“It looks different,” She said, her novel acquisition of unique stimuli at the forefront of her mind.  “Something’s changed, hasn’t it?” 

 

“Captain,” B’Elanna stepped forward just as the Doctor reappeared in the room.  “There is so much-“

 

“What year is it?”  Her question met hesitant eyes that darted between her and her husband uncertainly.

 

“Captain-“

 

“ _What year is it?”_ Her voice was stern, impatient. 

“Twenty-three ninety-three,” Was the whispered answer delivered with hesitant eyes.  “Sixteen years after you disappeared.” 

 

Kathryn’s stomach lurched painfully as she looked back down at the baby on her breast.  “But it’s only been a year…” 

 

“ _I’m sorry_ , Captain.” B’Elanna thought to put her arms around her and Chakotay, but she still knew not what the boundaries were.  For all intents and purposes, this was a different woman who sat before her – a woman so diametrically opposite to the one who she had known - not only in appearance, but in affect as well. 

 

“Are we in the Delta Quadrant,” She asked hesitantly, friable emotions near the surface.  “Are we still lost?” 

 

“Yes,” B’Elanna nodded her head, not knowing if she was the person best suited to explain any of this.  She had intended to make small talk and reacquaint herself with them, not discuss anything more. But she should have known Kathryn would ask. If she didn’t, well then she would have truly been a different woman entirely.  “And no,” She told her.  “We’re not lost.”

 

“I don’t understand,” This was new to Chakotay’s ears as well.  “What do you mean?”

 

“After you went missing, we searched for almost two years.  But, after we had exhausted all our options, we…” The older woman took a deep breath. “We moved on.  A year later, at a location not two light years from our current position, long range sensors picked up a spatial probe,” Her eyes narrowed. “The only remnant from another Voyager.” 

 

“What do you mean?”  The baby had fallen asleep against her breast, the seal breaking as Chakotay took the tiny bundle into his arms. 

 

B’Elanna handed her former Captain a robe, and then turned away to give her privacy as she put it on.  “What do you mean, B’Elanna?”  Kathryn repeated the question as she tied the two sides together.

 

Still nearly uncomfortable in her presence, B’Elanna paced the small space beside her bed.  “Do you remember the Demon Class planet, what happened there?”

 

Kathryn turned her head in thought. “Yes.  We gave them pieces of our DNA in exchange for Tom and Harry back… why?” 

 

“I don’t know how it happened, but somehow our 'copies' set off in a replica of Voyager.  In almost every way, they lived identical lives to our own. But after two years, they started to degrade and die outside of the confines of their natural environment.” She ran a jittery hand through her hair and continued her story.  “Before the ship disintegrated, they launched a probe.  It contained personal logs, data collected on the Delta Quadrant, star charts, reports…” 

 

“But how did the probe survive,” Chakotay asked. “If everything else on board the had disintegrated?” 

 

“It wasn’t made from anything on Voyager,” She explained.  “The alloys, the data chips – everything was made from Delta Quadrant materials - things they must have traded for.”

 

“So?” Kathryn begged her to continue, leaning forward – eager to hear more. 

 

“So…” B’Elanna quirked a smile. “It turns out that our copies had been working on novel ways to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. A month before they started disintegrating, they’d upgraded their warp core so that it was capable of exceeding warp twelve.” 

 

“ _Warp twelve?”_ Kathryn balked and looked wide-eyed at her equally astonished husband.  “But Federation ships are only capable of warp ten!” 

 

“Not anymore,” B’Elanna smiled and shook her head as she continued.  “After we made the enhancements, we were able to reach Earth in just under three years.”   

 

Her heart beat so quickly that it sounded in her ears, drowning out everything else as fat tears of disbelieved reprieve rolled down her cheeks. “You…” She stuttered with difficulty.  “You m-made it home?”

 

Torn by her tears, B’Elanna made that final step and put her hand on Kathryn’s shoulder.  She expected that she’d tolerate the intrusion; what she did not expect, however, was the bone-crushing hug she was enfolded into.  “Yes, Captain,” She breathed the woman in, felt her alive and real under her fingertips.  “We got home.”

 

All these months, Kathryn had been wracked by guilt – the guilt of leaving her crew, the guilt of not being with them, of not being able to fight for them, of not fulfilling the promise she had made, for being happy when she suspected that very far away, over one hundred and fifty people were still fighting to make their way across a hostile expanse with no promise of seeing their loved ones in their lifetime.  And so she wept. Wept for the immense relief she felt, for the weight lifted off her shoulders - for the absolution of years wrought by choking culpability as she finally let it go. 


	162. Chapter 162

 

_T’Pel lay quietly and examined the one stilly lying beside her.  He was changed, she thought – so different from the man who had set off on his mission so many years ago._

_Of course, he was still her husband – the man with whom she had bonded, whose children she'd born.  But since his return all those years ago, there were subtleties that she picked – alterations to his character that had not been before._

_Looking at him, she could see nothing different, no outward signs of his years or the troubles he had been forced to endure.  But there were discernments that she noted; small moments of scant emotional lability and outward sadness – escaped flashes of thought that would barely play out over his still features, marking him with their wistful melancholy._

_“What troubles you, Husband?”  She spoke into the darkness and measured him with dark eyes._

_“Do not concern yourself, my Wife.”  He said softly. “My troubles are few.”_

_“Despite your ability to fool many,” She said.  “You have never been able to deceive me. Is it your sickness? ”_

_“No,” Tuvok shook his head and looked away from her, back to the intricacies on the ceiling. “I am as of yet unaffected. And my treatments have been successful.”_

_A silence reined between them - one of camaraderie, companionship and understanding while they remained lassoed in their thoughts._

_He had returned one week from yesterday from his fourth mission back to the Delta Quadrant. Regular transmissions reported that he was in good health and keeping well, and his return to Vulcan was swift._

 

_But that was when she remembered – not yesterday she found him in front of a holoimage they kept on the mantle: one of the crew of Voyager on what he had relayed to her was a holiday that the cook Neelix had created – something called Ancestor’s Eve._

_“Tuvok?” Her voice had been soft in her beckoning, but he had not responded.  So she asked again.  “Tuvok?”_

_“Yes,” Turning to her, he relinquished the photograph to its exact resting place._

_She walked towards him, keeping the photo in her scrutiny as she did. “What is it in this photo that holds your attention so keenly today?”_

_“It is her birthday,” He had replied solemnly._

_And now T’Pel’s eyes opened in understanding - Tuvok would never let her go._

_From the very first time she had met Kathryn Janeway, she had known that the vibrant young woman, through no doing of her own but simply by who she was, owned a piece of Tuvok.  What he felt for her was illogical; it broke the boundaries of Vulcan restraint because he loved her with this whole heart._

_If she had spoken even a fragment of these thoughts to anyone, they might deign it something inapposite and unfitting of a man in his esteem. But the truth was those feelings could never be construed as anything short of honourable as his love for her was ensconced in loyalty, the desire to protect her, and the inmost respect._

_“You still think of her,” T’Pel whispered, a controlled sorrow infiltrating her monotone._

_“Yes,” Tuvok whispered.  “I think of her often.”_

_“It does not do to dwell on the dead, Tuvok.”  She turned on her side and traced the sharp turn of his ear._

_He nodded once, acquiescing the veracity of her simple words.  “Yes.  You are correct. But I do not think that she is dead.”_

_“No?” T’Pel whispered.  “Then where is she?”_

_“I do not know,” He raised his brows in resignation as he turned to face her. “But a woman like Kathryn Janeway does not simply pass away.”_

_If she could laugh, she would.  “What a thing to say, Tuvok.  But you knew her well.”_

_“Perhaps,” He analysed his feelings logically.  “I feel this way because I there is uncertainty.”_

_“Yes,” T’Pel recognised.  “Perhaps. And perhaps that uncertainty will linger.”_

_“Yes,” Tuvok closed his eyes, revelling in the small touches she was putting to his lobe._

_“But,” T’Pel rejoined.  “ It is my dearest wish that one day you will find your answers. For I feel only then will you find peace...”_

Tuvok examined the man in front of him and measured the words that he had spoken.  “I see,” he said with a nod.  “You have given me much to think about.” 

 

“Unfortunately, Captain,” Ducane gave a grave smile and bowed his head.  “We don’t have that luxury.  Time,” he smirked full on at his own private joke.  “Is truly of the essence.  I must speak with Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay immediately.” 

 

“They are in sickbay,” His eyebrows said. “Recovering.  However,I understand your need for celerity." He stood, motioning for Ducane to do the same as he led him out of the briefing room.

 

“Sir,” Tuvok spoke quietly as they walked along the solemn corridor to the turbo lift.  “Might I ask a question?” 

 

“Of course, Captain,” Ducane granted as they entered the small lift.

 

“Do you not feel as though you yourself are breaking the Temporal Prime Directive with your actions?” 

 

The question brought a laugh from the man. “No, Captain,” He winked, his eyes full of a myriad of deceptive truths.  “Don’t you understand?” 

 

“No,” Tuvok’s drole stare continued as they exited onto Deck Three.  “Not as of yet.”

 

Ducane slowed for a moment and regarded the staid Vulcan.  “A paradox,” He glinted watching realisation dawn over the face of his companion.

 

“As a boy,” Tuvok started as they turned in tandem to continue.  “Temporal Mechanics was never my strongest subject.” 

 

The assertion fomented a laugh from his compatriot. “Is it anyone's? Would you believe that it wasn't even my own..”

 

“All evidence to the contrary.”

 

“In the future,” Ducane assured him. “Things are different.” 

 

“What will you do if they refuse?” He asked just out of range of the door’s sensor. 

 

“Somehow,” The younger man stopped again, a worry settling behind grey eyes.  “I don’t think they will.”


	163. Chapter 163

The newly replicated apparel felt inflexible, scratchy, and foreign on her skin – nothing like the soft cottons and polyesters she was used to wearing.  She tugged at it, moving it this way and that as she attempted to make herself comfortable. But no matter what she did, it simply wouldn’t budge. 

 

“Kathryn?” Smiling amusedly, he spoke softly so as not to wake the sleeping child in his arms. 

 

“It’s just,” She tugged again at her new black pants, getting more frustrated each time.  “They’re just…”

 

“New?”

 

She thought before she answered.  “No,” Kathryn shook her head.  “Different.” 

 

“You’re not talking about the trousers anymore,” Chakotay breathed.  “Are you?”

 

She kept his gaze for a long moment, communicating all she needed to with a simple look.  “No,” The monosyllable was redundant as she raised her hands for a deeper verbal explanation.  “Chakotay-“

 

But her clarification was interrupted by this hiss of the pneumatic doors.  “Ah, Captain,” She heard the Doctor say.  “It’s good to see you.  You’ll find that our patients are doing well.  I have to sa-“

 

“ _Thank you, Doctor_ ,” Kathryn heard a familiar voice cut the loquacious hologram’s dissertation short and her legs carried her quickly to its source.  “ _We n-”_

 

 _“Tuvok?”_ Stepping out into the main room, Kathryn looked on to see an old, very dear friend. 

 

“Captain,” Tuvok’s shoulders depressed in less than visible relief.  “I am pleased-” His salutation was hastily cut off when he found himself wrapped in her arms, the breath nearly knocked from him. 

 

 _“Oh, Tuvok,”_ Her voice was thick with the strength of her emotion. “It’s so _good_ to see you.” 

 

“You as well,” He helped her away to regard her solemnly. “Captain-“

 

“Kathryn,” She corrected him, with a nod. “Just Kathryn.”

 

“As you wish, _Kathryn_ ,” Tuvok began again.  “I am afraid we have very little time for pleasantries.” 

 

“ _Tuvok_?” Chakotay walked out with his bundle in his arms, just as stunned at his wife to see their old colleague. 

 

“Commander,” Tuvok nodded.  “May I extend my congratulations to you both. I am relieved to see that you are recovered.” 

 

“Thank you,” Chakotay beamed coming to rest behind his wife. 

 

“As I was saying,” Tuvok stepped aside to reveal his colleague.  “I am afraid that a convalescent recovery is not possible under the circumstances that we-“

 

Kathryn scanned the strange man in the room before his identity became salient, causing her to draw a shaky breath and interrupt her old colleague. 

 

“ _Relativity.”_ She whispered.  “I met you aboard the _Relativity_ three years ago.”

 

“Yes,” Ducane stepped forward with a warm smile gracing his handsome features.  “It’s good to see you doing well, Captain.” 

 

Kathryn gave him an imitation of a smile before her head fell into her hands, monotonously rubbing her forehead before she looking back at him.  “Why do I have the feeling that I’m about to get a headache?” 

 

Ducane’s grin broadened congenially and he pointed to the room she had just come out of.  “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere where we can sit down?”

 

With a subtle roll of her eyes, Kathryn reached behind her for her husband’s hand whilst the group disappeared in behind closed doors.  Curiously, the Doctor looked on and angled himself to surreptitiously pry on the enigmatic colloquy.

 

Kathryn turned to him, wasting no time as soon as the frosted doors slid shut. “Why don’t you tell me what the _hell_ you’re doing here?” 

 

“Haven’t you already figured that out, Captain?” He stirred.

 

“I knew it,” She looked back at Chakotay, keeping her voice low as not to wake the sleeping baby.  “All of it –“ 

 

“Do you?”  Ducane pressed inquisitively. 

 

“ _Braxton_ ,” She looked back at him, then up towards the ceiling in muffled frustration.  “ _Damnit_!”     

 

“Yes,” Ducane closed his eyes and gave a nod. “But not entirely. And that’s why I’ve come to speak with you.” 

 

“What do you mean?”  Chakotay stepped forward as the baby moved restlessly in her sleep.

 

“If you remember, Captain,” Ducane turned his attention back to the petite woman standing in front of him.  “Two years ago you stopped an attempt by Braxton to destroy Voyager.” 

 

“Yes,” She remembered.  “Seven and I apprehended Braxton and returned him to your timeframe.”

 

“Correct,” He nodded.  “And you remember a similar incident not a year and a half before that, when Voyager found itself in the year nineteen-ninety six.”

 

“Yes,” Kathryn leaned back against the biobed, lightheaded all of a sudden.  “What are you saying?” 

 

“At his trial,” Ducane leaned forward against his knees. “Braxton wasn’t entirely forthcoming.  Though he divulged several other instances where he tried to destroy Voyager, most all of them turned out to be unsuccessful.”

 

“What do you mean?”  Chakotay whispered, face the perfect embodiment of confusion. “Unsuccessful?”

 

“Simply, they were poorly implemented – too temporally out of phase to be of any consequence.” 

 

Kathryn’s fingers brushed her chin in a thoughtful manoeuvre.  “So what are you saying, Captain?  _Was_ Braxton was responsible for Chakotay and I ending up in the twenty first century?”  

 

“Yes, Captain. He thought it would be… poetically fitting to send you back to a world on the brink of destruction so you could die with it.”

 

“Then,” Her voice broke in frustration. “Why weren’t you able to stop it beforehand – like you did when Braxton attempted to destroy the ship?”

 

“It didn’t show up on our sensors in time,” Ducane sat back, crossing one leg over the other – his body language at complete incongruity to the gravity his was expressing. 

 

“ _Bullshit!”_ Angrily Kathryn shook her head.  “You and I both know how advanced your technology is.  Tell me the _truth_!”

 

Ducane levelled with her, standing to emphasise his next words.  “Fine. The truth is that your being in the twenty first century caused an incursion on an order of magnitude that was too tempting to pass up.”

 

“What? Incursion?” Chakotay inserted himself. “What do you mean?”  

 

“Come now, Kathryn, _Chakotay_ ,” Ducane cajoled them lightly.  “You didn’t notice? Shannon O’Donnell working on the Mars Missions; Paul Cochrane’s invention of rudimentary warp technology… Tell me you didn’t watch the news waiting for events that never happened. You had to have wondered...”  

 

“We did,” Chakotay acknowledged with a puzzled shrug. “But…” 

 

“It might have started out as one of Braxton’s traps, but it turned into something much more.”  Ducane sat back down.  “Your names in the registry, your documents…”

 

“That was your doing?”  Kathryn’s eyes were wide as saucers. 

 

“ _The Relativity’s_ ,” He corrected her.  “Yes. It was our doing.”

 

Chakotay came back to the present as he looked closely at the room around them – the room bedecked with technology that he’d little knowledge of on a ship he once used to call home but now felt as sterile and impersonal.   “And what about now?”

 

Ducane gave a listless genuflection and smiled wearily. “I told your wife a long time ago that Voyager shows up on our sensors far too often.  When I said that, I only took her and her proclivity for trouble into mind.”  The other man gave no response to his attempt at humour so he continued.  “What I failed to take into account was Voyager’s crew.”

 

His words brought a brief smile to Kathryn and Chakotay’s faces before he continued, taking a solemn breath before he did so. “And what I have to ask you now Captain, Commander,” He nodded at the other gentleman. “Is for something which I cannot force you to do, so I will ask kindly.” 

 

“You want us to go back,” Kathryn breathed, not needing to hear the question. 

 

“Yes,” Ducane looked down soberly. “And not to rush you, but time is of the essence.  Every moment you wait, your disappearance becomes less and less explicable to those around you.”

 

“Jan,” Kathryn looked back at Chakotay. “Gregg.  They’re going to be wondering where we are.”

 

“Yes,” Ducane got back up and observed them before he left. “You have forty eight hours to make your decision.” 


	164. Chapter 164

From a dark corner just out of view, he looked on at them. Examined them; outlined their qualities, juxtaposing them to the ones he thought he knew.  

B’Elanna, the Doctor, and Tuvok had the gumption, but he’d not spoken to either of them since they were beamed onto the ship. And it wasn’t that he was frightened, he laughed to himself.  No, rather it was simple, cowardly nervousness; simply, he didn’t know them anymore – how they were, _who_ they were.

Sixteen years might as well have been a lifetime. And even though their photographs sat proudly on their mantle, he had long ago disregarded their faces, the sounds of their voices.  And now, even those too had been altered so radically from the way he scantily remembered.

His face wasn’t the way he’d learned it; gone were the dark sweeping lines painted on his brow and even his hair was tousled out of the sharp military lines with which he’d kept it, even in the Maquis. Now, it sat messily atop his head in boyish black curls with none of the grave sharpness that had previously adorned his temples. 

And what were once permanent frown lines, cosmetic markers of his poorly concealed melancholy, had now been transformed into smooth demarcations of rich inclination. 

She too, Tom thought as he continued his examination; she was just as different as he.  Her skin was darker than he remembered it, with her terracotta freckles all the more prominent.  Her hair hung long in loose, messy waves down over her shoulders and it was tinged with a blazing copper.  He wondered for a moment what it would look like in the sun.  And he could imagine her like that now – sun kissed and laughing, directing her joyful pleasure to the man at her side. 

Tom had always found Kathryn much more stunning than he should have, even when they were children.  Many mistook his appreciation for her, thinking his crush nothing more than endearing.  But it was never so simple; he admired her, even feared her – but more than that, he always sought her approval.

Over the years, he had grown to think of Chakotay in the same way but never with the same level of ardour. What started out between them as a gross display of male rivalry had blossomed into something more meaningful, though never with the same degree of friendliness that he displayed towards some others.

Embarrassed, a silent sigh deflated his chest as he caught the reflection of himself spying on the family.  Family… How natural to regard the two of them and the new life nestled against her chest in that way. 

This was what he always imagined for Kathryn and Chakotay; what he’d always hoped they would be.  Furtively, early on in their journey he used to imagine that he'd one day see them like this.  But as the years wore on, that possibility seemed less and less likely. 

Infatuated students take notice of their teachers. Each day when class begins, they take gentle care to notice the woman at the front of the room – what she wears, the softness of her hair, the melodious tone of her voice...  Keenly perceptive, they sense her moods, her doldrums.  And so, like the enamoured pupil, Tom started to read Kathryn Janeway.

Over the years, he studied her on the bridge, in the mess hall, during the moments they were alone in the turbolift, during away missions… He noticed her hair, the set of her jaw, the cloudy make of her stormy eyes, even the distinct turns of her lips. And what he documented was a woman who felt increasingly discontent with herself and her circumstances.

“Tom?”  So lost in his personal meanderings, he’d not seen her leave the room until she was standing in front of him – calling his bluff. 

Coming to, he met her blue eyes with a smile. “Captain.” 

“Well, just Kathryn now,” She embraced him gently. “It’s good to see you, Tom.”

“You too, Kathryn,” The name felt foreign on his tongue as he held her slight body against his own before gently pushing her away to have a look.   “You too. You look different.”

“So do you,” Kathryn considered at the older gentleman who now stood in front of her. He was so different, but so much the same. Like B’Elanna, he had grown up and matured into something beautiful.  “Much more distinguished. Handsome.” She ended with a watery grin.

“You’re a mother now,” He spoke softly with a proud smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” She looked back through the glass doors at the sleeping baby in Chakotay’s arms as he proudly showed her off to B’Elanna for the hundredth time.  

“And married,” Tom caught the sliver of gold encircling her finger. 

“Yes,” She whispered, turning to him. “It must be so strange for you to see us like this.” 

“No,” He shook his head persuasively. “Well…” with a smile he reneged before looking away towards the grey carpet under their feet. “Maybe a little. It’s been a while.”

She motioned for them to sit in the chairs outside the room she’d just come from. “Sixteen years, or so I’m told.”

“Yes,” He nodded his head forlornly. “Almost exactly.”

She rubbed tired eyes and crossed her legs one over the other.  “Only a year for us.”  

“You never liked temporal mechanics,” He remembered laughingly. 

“Mmm.  For good reason,” She laughed with him, but sobered quickly as she contemplated the man sitting beside her.  “You seem happy, Tom.” 

“I am,” He glanced back at his wife who now had the baby in her arms.  “We have four children.”

“B'Elanna told us," She leered proudly. "Congratulations, Tom.” 

“Thanks,” His smile kept up as he ran a hand nervously through his sandy hair.  “It’s a busy house - a boy and three girls.” 

“You’ve managed,” She chuckled. "More than managed from the way B'Elanna tells it!"  

“Mmm,” He met her eyes.  “We try.”  They sat for another moment in reserve, taking the time to relearn one another after so much time apart.  “Kathryn?”

“Yes, Tom.” 

“There are so many questions I want to ask you, but I feel like none of them matter.” 

Kathryn smiled crookedly, placidly evading his comment with that familiar glint piercing her blue eyes. Her hands, though, moved restlessly in her lap in pregnant inevitability of her next question. “How is my mother? And Phoebe?”

Another breath cratered his lungs as the images of Gretchen and Phoebe came to the forefront of his mind.  “They’re good,” He answered honestly, simply.

“Are they happy?”  Kathryn’s voice shook with the question. 

“Yes,” Tom gave her the honest answer and sat back in the chair as he watched the visible metamorphosis of the woman in front of him. It was nearly supernatural – the way she lightened with his response, as though an invisible bulk was hefted off of her petite shoulders and she was finally able to breathe unencumbered. 

“Tell me about them,” She pressed, giddily this time with none of her former hesitancy. 

“Well,” Tom chuckled and leaned towards her. “Phoebe has five children-“

“More than she had when we wrote letters through Pathfinder,” Kathryn grinned and encouraged Tom to continue.

 “The oldest, Kathryn Joy, is nineteen now. Kara and Annie are the twins. They’ll be seven this year. Edward Thomas is three. And her youngest is Kieran, and he’ll be eighteen months this February.” 

“You seem to know them well,” She smiled through tears that meandered down her cheeks.  “ _Nineteen_ ,” She let the number roll off her tongue. “I’d nearly forgotten she’d named her Kathryn!”  

Tom laughed.  “She’s Andrew’s daughter through and through.  But sometimes she’ll _say_ something," he glinted at her. "And I catch glimpses of her namesake.  Kara and Annie are both stubborn.  They practically run their house!” 

“Just like Phoebe!”  Kathryn laughed, remembering how she was as a girl. “And what about Gretchen?” She asked softly.

“Gretchen,” Tom breathed in and out. “She remarried almost eight years ago.”

“Oh?”  Kathryn’s heart stopped in her chest, half in joy for her mother, half in her own shock. “To who?” 

“You wouldn’t know him,” Tom shook his head. “An older gentleman named Jack Murphy. He’s good to her,” He assuaged. “He takes care of her, loves her.”

 “Oh,” Kathryn’s eyes filled again. “Good.” 

 “They still think of you, Kathryn,” Tom’s soft tone promised with an honest fervency.  “Still talk about you, miss you every day.” 

 “But they’re happy?”  She wanted him to say it again, wanted to hear his words and burn his promise into her heart. 

 “Yes,” Tom nodded, his hand resting on hers in friendly companionship.  “Yes, I think so.”

 “Good,” She nodded, again getting lost in her own thoughts. “That’s good.”

 “Kathryn?” 

“Yes, Tom?” 

 “Have you left Sickbay since you came?” It was a silly question – so silly that he didn’t know why he’d asked it. 

“No,” She shook her head.  “Tuvok offered us our own quarters, but…” She paused, a pit settling in her stomach as she grappled with her complex emotions.  “It feels _too different_. This ship... it doesn’t feel like Voyager anymore.” 

“No,” Tom nodded his head in understanding. “I suppose it doesn’t. Not to you, anyway.”

 “I used to be able to feel her,” Kathryn smirked. “I used to know her, intimately.”

“You used to talk to her,” Tom laughed in remembrance.

 “Yes,” Kathryn quirked a crooked, half smile. “I used to know her speed just by the vibration of the floors under my feet.  I knew when something was wrong with her engines even that _split second_ before B’Elanna commed me from engineering…”

 “She is different,” Tom acknowledged, smiling sadly at the recollections she spoke of.

“I don’t know this Voyager anymore,” She told him honestly.  “She doesn’t _belong_ to me anymore. You know-“ 

 “Tom?”  Kathryn looked up and saw her husband standing behind her, the baby stirring against his chest. 

 “Chakotay.”  Tom stood, warmly appreciating his old colleague – better now that he stood so near.  “It’s good to see you again.” 

“You too,” Chakotay smiled warmly before he turned to regard his wife.  “Last time I’m afraid wasn’t very good company.”   

“With good reason,” B’Elanna remembered. “If it had been Tom in the same situation, I wouldn’t have been much better.” 

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” Kathryn stood and kissed his cheek and the baby’s.  “Tom was telling me about my mother and sister.” 

 “Good things, I hope.” 

 “Yes. Good things.” She nodded before turning back to Tom and B’Elanna.  “Thank you – both of you.” 

 “For what?” They asked nearly in tandem.

 “For finding us,” Chakotay gave them a look. “You always did seem to have an impeccable sense of timing.” 

 “Oh,” B’Elanna blinked and cleared her throat. “It wasn’t us.”

 “No?”  Chakotay gave a confused look as his eyes darted between Kathryn, Tom, and B’Elanna. “Then who…?” 

“Naomi Wildman,” Tom whispered, watching the confusion theatrically produce the couple’s features.  “And her husband Icheb.”


	165. Chapter 165

_She only went there after hours, when she knew her mother was asleep. When Seven was peacefully regenerating in her alcove.  When she knew they could be alone._

_Each night, her routine was routinely predictable.  Naomi had trained herself to listen, to memorise her mother’s breathing patterns, timing her escape to the second.  Early on, she’d been unsuccessful and her exit would catch Samantha just as the came out of a REM cycle, waking her immediately and foiling her mission. But after those first few hinders, she learned._

_The corridors were empty at this hour.  In days not too long past, there would have been people milling about, running diagnostics, preparing for drills, or doing maintenance work. But since the disappearance and the installation of the new warp drive, when they’d laid in a swift course for the Alpha Quadrant, the activity aboard the ship at late hours had significantly diminished._

_For the few years, she had been alone in her endeavour, until he began to take notice. She used to roll her eyes at him, frustrated when she interpreted his strict adherence to rules as an upper-handed manoeuvre to keep her underfoot.  Didn’t he realise, she used to say to herself, that she was here first? As far as she saw it, this was her ship – not his.    _

_She cringed remembering the first night he’d found her – the argument between them. For so long, Naomi had looked up to him like a brother, and for a while, a tutor. And she had paid him a generous token of respect in both those regards.  But percolating just beneath the surface, there had been a smouldering brand of resentment.  In her eyes, he’d taken Seven away from her – all the Borg children had, but he held her affections most strongly.  But even more than Seven, he’d taken Captain Janeway away from her…_

_But that evening, after he found her in “his” haven, after she’d stopped her shouting and realised how hurtful she’d been – that was when their relationship changed from one of grudging tolerance to true companionship. And now, for the past two years, instead of dread – she felt a bubbling excitement for their early morning collaboration._

_“Hello, Icheb,” Naomi smiled at him as she walked through the double doors to find him in his accustomed post._

_“Good morning, Naomi,” He laughed.  “Or should I say ‘good evening’?”_

_Naomi rolled her eyes. “That never gets old to you, does it?”_

_“No,” He shook his head and continued his work._

_“Have you found anything?”  She asked with her usual hopefulness._

_“No,” He shook his head sombrely.  “Did you finish the assignment I gave you on the Rokatansky Quasar?”_

_“Icheb,” She chastened, glaring back at him for his breach of their own derived protocol.  “I’m not talking about school tonight.  We agreed-”_

_“I know,” He usually didn’t ask, “I’m sorry.  I suppose I am just nervous.”_

_“Nervous?” Naomi laughed, stopping her own work to regard him.  “Why?”_

_He stopped what he was doing and turned to her.  “We will be reaching Earth in less than seven months.  I do not know what to expect.”_

_“Ah,” She nodded her head, understanding the gnawing sentiment all too clearly._

_Icheb kept on. “And Seven thinks that I should apply to Starfleet Academy so that I may start immediately.”_

_“Is that what you want?”  Naomi pressed. “To join Starfleet?”_

_“Is that what you want?”_

_“I think so,” She shrugged. “It’s all I know.”_

_They shared a look borne of understanding and friendship.  “I want to study Astrometrics,” Icheb said finally. “And I want to stay aboard Voyager.”_

_“Me too,” Naomi’s eyes crinkled when she grinned. “But, I guess we don’t really have a choice. We have to leave Voyager when we get back to Earth.”_

_“Yes,” Icheb acknowledged.  “I suppose so.”_

_Naomi turned back to her station and moved her fingers predictably over the controls as she studied the information that appeared on the screen before her. “Naomi?”_

_Icheb took the step to her and she stopped again.  “Yes, Icheb?”_

_“When we get back to Earth,” He looked down, afraid of how she would respond to his nervously posited question.  “Will I have to leave you?”_

_Her eyes widened as she met his hazelnut gaze.  Sometimes they forgot how old they were and the years between them. The Ktarian contribution to her DNA caused her to develop faster than other species. And with Naomi’s ever more noticeably feminine form, quick wit, and maturity, it was so easy to forget the fact that she was only ten – seven years his junior._

_But what was between them was more than that – more than the natural attraction between them. They were companions, and she knew she could never leave him.  “No, Icheb,” She leaned over boldly to kiss his cheek – something she had never done before, and she made a promise. “I’ll never leave you.  Besides,” She laughed to lighten the moment. “Who else would tolerate me?”_

“Icheb?” Naomi walked beside him, measuring her pace to keep up with his longer stride.  “Do you think we’ll really go to prison for what we’ve done?” 

 

“I do not know,” He shook his head as they entered the turbolift.  “Deck Three!”

 

“Tuvok didn’t say much,” She remembered their quick deportation from the ready room as their captain had put aside their infraction in favour of more a more pressing conundrum.   “No one has said much of anything since, well... And you don’t think that we’d really- do you?” She kept on at Thumper’s pace. “It would be silly, actually-“    

 

The lift stopped on Deck Three and she kept her nervous prattling as they made their way to Sickbay.  Even their pace was quick, he noticed, so he stopped for a moment and took notice of the dependably frazzled look in his wife’s blue eyes. “Naomi?” 

 

“…What?” She jostled.  “Why are you stopping?  We were just-“

 

“ _Naomi,”_ He said again, more firmly this time, despite the smile creeping onto his smooth features. 

 

“Yes, Icheb,” She calmed at his passive leer. “What?” 

 

“Calm down.”

 

“I’m sorry,” She said, glancing down the hall at the doors to Sickbay.  “I’m nervous. And I don’t know what to say to them.”

 

“You could start with ‘hello’,” Was his laughed suggestion that earned him a punch in the arm. 

 

“You’re right,” Her hands came up to rub the space around her forehead spikes where she carried all her tension. “I’m being silly.”

 

“No,” Unbothered by who saw, he leaned down and affectionately kissed her cheek.  “You’re being you.” 

 

The couple resumed at a slower pace until their presence activated the doors, entering accustomed scenery. For a moment, Naomi felt nearly dejected.  For some childish reason, she nearly expected the space to take on some different mien now that she knew Captain Janeway and Chakotay were here.  For a fleeting second she imagined the colourful miasma of Flotter’s Forest with all of its fairy-tale delight.  But, nearly a little crestfallen, she saw nothing until they walked only another step before they came into view. 

 

The swift intake of her breath must have alerted the woman herself to stand up and turn to them.  In a flash, Naomi pictured what she must look like in this moment with her mouth hanging agape, dumbstruck as Kathryn Janeway gave her a smile and walked to her.  “C-Captain,” She stuttered, nails digging nervously into Icheb’s hand. 

 

“Naomi,” Kathryn stood for a moment and surveyed the woman whom she’d left just a girl.  Her eyes followed the line of sight to the tall man standing beside her. How transformed he was, but so similar at the very same time. “Icheb,” Her voice was soft, forlorn with missing so much of their precious lives.  “Hello.”

 

“Hello, Captain,” Naomi’s expression of shock metamorphosed into pure elation with the tangible realisation of their success. Just behind her, Commander Chakotay appeared, wearing a smile similar to the Captain’s.

 

“Commander,” Icheb greeted him. “It is good to see you. You as well, Captain.”

 

“Icheb. Naomi.” Chakotay grinned proudly as he joined his wife in examination of their two saviours.  “Tom and B’Elanna told us…” His voice choked with the depth of his sentiment. “Thank you, so much.” 

 

Kathryn looked to the man beside her whose tears flooded his obsidian eyes.  “Yes,” She echoed. “Even to say thank you isn’t enough. But how,” Kathryn walked the scant steps to the woman in front of her.  “Did you find us?” 

 

A smile caught the young woman as she choked back her own tears.  “We never stopped looking, Captain,” She explained.  “But,” Naomi looked proudly at the man who stood beside her.  “Really, it was Icheb who found your name in the database. It was the first time we’d found anything about what had happened to you.  It was-“ 

 

“Perhaps,” Tuvok’s strong monotone interrupted her as he came into the room, followed by Tom, B’Elanna, the Doctor, and a man she had never seen before, but presumed was the man who’d introduced himself as Captain Ducane over the comm.  “It is best if we keep to brevity.”     

 

“Well,” Kathryn gave an amused roll of her eyes before she took another step and drew the young woman into her embrace. “Thank you,” She whispered tearfully. “For saving our lives.”

 

“We hear that congratulations are in order, Captain,” Icheb was still unaccustomed to the woman in front of him as she put her arms around him.

 

In all of his imaginings since her disappearance so many years ago, he had always remembered Captain Janeway as being larger than life.  He imagined meeting her again and straining to look up at her.  It was irrational, he knew. But somehow, he’d always expected it based on the persona she took on.  Imagine his amusement now – her body against his and she barely surpassed his shoulder.  

 

“Thank you,” She stepped away to regard him kindly. “And yes,” She looked back to the Doctor in whose arms the infant now peacefully slept. “Tom and B’Elanna tell us that you two are married.”

 

“Yes,” Naomi laughed.  “Almost two years ago the day after I graduated from the Academy.”

 

“We were…” Icheb smiled at his wife. “Waiting until Naomi finished.”

 

“That’s very admirable of you,” Chakotay regarded the young couple, still unaccustomed to their maturity when all he could remember was them as mere children.

 

“How is your mother, Naomi?”  Kathryn asked her. 

 

“She’s well, Captain,” The girl smiled. “Thank you. She took a post back on Earth and she and my father have had three other children since our return so many years ago.”

 

“Three more?”  Kathryn remembered Samantha Wildman with such a fondness. Even her face was kind, joyful. “That’s wonderful, Naomi.”

 

“They think so,” Naomi laughed. “They’re very happy.”

 

The crowd fell silent for the moment as the passage of time weighted between them.  “Captain,” Ducane stepped forward, his hand lightly on the arm of her counterpart.

 

“Yes,” She met his eyes and breathed in before turning back to the young couple.  “Sorry, we don’t have much time left.”

 

“Oh?” Icheb turned his head in confusion. “Are you going somewhere, Captain?”

 

“Yes,” Kathryn took one long look around Sickbay – to the sight she had seen so many times before, but now felt so extraneous.  And then, like the picture of spontaneity, a wistfully crooked smile crept up on her and she looked at them with her own spectral brand of of enigma. “We’re going home.”


	166. Chapter 166

_They took a minute, just the two of them, to gather what little they had with them. Well, just his recycled sweatshirt, really, but they used it as an excuse to disappear from the surveillance of others, even if only for a few moments._

_“Kathryn,” He took her gently by the arm, just out of earshot and regarded her solemnly. “Are you certain that this is what you want?”_

_She sighed quietly, fidgeting as she re-examined the small room they were in. “Are you asking me because you’re unsure yourself, or because you want to be sure of my own decision?”_

_Chakotay leaned against the wall, careful to avoid the clear glass console and let out his own breathed expression of forlorn.  “I just want to be sure this isn’t a knee jerk reaction from you, Kathryn. If we do this, we can never come back.”_

_She nodded and closed her eyes.   “There’s one part of me that wants to stay – go back to the Alpha Quadrant and see my mother and sister and fit myself into their lives.  But then,” She looked up at him with a sad smile.  “I realise that’s just a fantasy.  Phoebe and my mother have their own lives; they moved on a long time ago, and to go back would be… complicated.  But more than that,” She stopped and thought over her words. “We don't belong here anymore – in this life, in this time…”_

_“No,” His hands came up to encircle her lithe arms and his thumbs rubbed in small, soothing circles over her deltoids.  “We don’t. I thought the same thing about my own sister,” He conjured the last image he had of her to the forefront of his mind. “But she has a life of her own now. She’s happy.”_

_“The crew got home, Chakotay,” Her admission transformed her contemplative sadness into the biggest smile.  “Without casualties. The Maquis weren’t prosecuted-“_

_“No,” He shook his head proudly.  “They were welcomed.”_

_“Even given commissions,” She glanced in the direction of the door. “B'Elanna didn’t say anything, but the Doctor told me she received a Cochrane Medal of Honour for her work on the warp and slip stream drives.”_

_Chakotay beamed, overwhelmed with pride for his long-time friend.   “She certainly didn’t tell us that!”_

_“No,” Kathryn shook her head in amusement.  “But it just goes to show that their lives went on.”_

_“So did ours.”_

_“Yes,” She nodded appreciatively.  “And it still will. Just not here.”_

_“And what about our daughter?” He asked his final question just as he heard the rising of voices on the other side of the glass partition._

_The mention of their little girl brought an instant grin to Kathryn’s tired face. “You’re asking if she would have a better life if we stayed.”_

_“Yes,” He nodded. “I’m asking not because I think she would, but because we’ll always wonder and if we don’t ask ourselves now…”_

_“We’ll give her the best life we can,” Kathryn covered before levying her own deciding element. “There is no war, Chakotay.”_

_“But even still, we don’t know what the future holds.” Chakotay’s beguilement surfaced when he thought of Ducane. “Maybe we should ask.”_

_They shared an amused look that surreptitiously turned quite solemn as she spoke a mirroring of words that she had long ago, in another time, just as they were about to embark on a very different endeavour.  “I know it’s as risk, probably our biggest one yet…”_

_He copped on, another smile taking the place of his recent frown as she continued. “But I’m willing to take it. Are you with me, Chakotay?”_

_The word was off his tongue in a wave of blithely practised automaticim. “Always.”_

They walked down the corridor in blurred wave of busy anticipation.  Kathryn kept her eyes peeled to the ship around her, continually struck by the differences of it in juxtaposition to the one she knew. Just about the only thing she would discernibly recognise were the shapes of the bulkheads. Their colours were different, though, and they were now adorned with sleek black consoles, much like the ones she'd noted in sickbay.

 

“It is different,” Tom walked beside her in quiet contemplation as he recalled their earlier conversation.

 

“Mm,” Kathryn nodded.  “She feels different, too.” 

 

“She does,” He acknowledged.  “She’s faster, more manoeuvrable.” 

 

“I can tell,” Kathryn laughed. “You must enjoy flying her even more, now.” 

 

“I do,” Tom shared her amusement. “When I get the chance. Voyager does a lot of the training for deep space missions and every cycle we have a fair few learner pilots.”

 

“He misses being the only one who gets to handle her,” B’Elanna’s hand jestingly met the centre of her husband’s chest.

“Not like his days on Voyager,” Chakotay remembered. “He nearly did all the flying!”

 

“Those were the days!”  Tom laughed in exclamation. 

 

B’Elanna nudged him again. “So you always say…”     

 

The journey too quick, they slowed in their approach of Transporter Room One just as the pneumatic doors hissed open, again to reveal another dramatically different milieu. 

 

Kathryn felt a familiar presence come up behind her – the one who, if he’d any emotion, she would have sworn was avoiding her. “Kathryn,” She heard his steady voice still grapple tediously with her name. 

 

“Yes, Tuvok,” She turned to him, stepping back slightly to look in his eyes.  For a moment, she watched him struggle to find the words he wanted to say before he committed them to the air.  “I am pleased that you are well and have found happiness.”

 

“Thank you, my friend,” Again she wrapped him in her embrace and held him to her one last time.  When she’d held him before, he had kept his arms to himself. But this time, she felt two stiff hands come up to hold her gently and only for a moment before she pulled away.

 

“Goodbye, Captain,” Naomi swallowed her tears.

 

“Goodbye, Naomi,” Kathryn held her. “I’m so very proud of you and what you’ve accomplished,” She whispered into her hair.  “But then again,” She pulled away and caught her tearful gaze. “I always knew your life would be something wonderful.” 

 

“Thank you,” She nodded and looked down in abashed taciturnity. “You know, all I ever wanted to be was the Captain’s Assistant.” 

 

“You always were,” Kathryn leaned up and gently cradled her face like a mother would her child.  “And thank you again,” She whispered gratefully.  “For never giving up on us.”  

 

“Goodbye, Captain Janeway,” Icheb regarded her solemnly. 

 

“Goodbye, Icheb,” She kissed his cheek. “Take care of each other.”

 

“We will,” Icheb took Naomi’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly as she tried and failed to hold her emotion in check.

 

“Goodbye, B’Elanna,” She pried the baby out of her old friend’s arms.  “Tom.”

 

“Kathryn,” B’Elanna hugged her friend, cognisant of the baby between them before she moved onto embrace Chakotay.

 

“I wish we had more time,” Tom added mournfully.   “But hey,” He shrugged with intent to lighten the mood.  “Maybe we’ll visit sometime.” 

 

“Are you ready?” Ducane came and joined the teary circle, as he watched the precious seconds pass on the room’s chronometer.

 

Chakotay cried and held his old friend one last time before the Doctor came through the door carrying two large industrial cases in his hands. “Doctor?”  Kathryn looked at him crookedly. 

 

“I came to say goodbye, Captain,” He hurried up onto the platform with the two black cases and laid them down. “Just some things,” He told Chakotay solemnly, glancing once at Tuvok and gaining a muted nod of approval. “In the event… Well,” He looked sombrely at his former commanding officers.  “Just be careful.  I don’t know what kinds of pathogens-“ 

 

“We’ll be fine, Doctor,” Chakotay wiped the wetness from his eyes and embraced the hologram.  “Thank you.” 

 

“Not at all, Commander,” His arms held the other man awkwardly.  “Not at all…”

 

“Well,” Kathryn cleared her throat and surveyed the faces of the people she loved.  “I’ve never liked saying goodbye, so I’ll make this brief... serving with you was one of the biggest honours we," She looked to the man beside her. "Have ever been given in our lives. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to bring you home, or finish the journey with you. But we're so _proud_ of what you've accomplished and so glad to see how happy your lives have turned out..."

 

"Thank you," Chakotay said gratefully.  "For everything. You will _always_ be our friends and hold a piece of our hearts."   

 

“We won’t forget you, Captain,” Naomi smiled through drying tears as she looked at Kathryn and then Chakotay. "Or you, Commander."

 

Kathryn closed her eyes gratefully and joined her husband at the pad, fitting herself in a familiar spot.  “Live long and prosper, Captain,” Tuvok arranged one hand in a traditional configuration while he manipulated the transporter with the other. 

 

Fresh tears fell down Kathryn’s cheeks as she returned his salutation.  “Live long and prosper, my dear friend.” 

 

And with a flash of blue, they were gone again.


	167. Chapter 167

_Goodbye, Kathryn._

He stood a moment longer, with eyes rooted to the spot where she had just been. It was not his custom, nor the custom of his people to struggle with _these_ emotions.  But, in spite of himself and that knowledge, he could not help the sadness he felt at losing her again. 

 

But then, like a ray of hot sun that cut through his melancholy, came the image of her smile and _that_ light in her eyes that he had never seen before.  She was _happy_.  After all these years that he had known her, Kathryn Janeway was finally happy. 

 

He felt their eyes on him as he let out one last long breath and turned to them. 

 

“Captain?” Naomi stepped forward, keeping her shoulders down as she prepared herself for the scorn she had anticipated. 

 

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

 

Naomi looked back to Icheb, Tom, B’Elanna, and the Doctor.  “What happens now?” 

 

“Now,” Tuvok paused to think.  “I do not know.”  

 

At that moment, Ducane stepped forward and addressed the small group.  “ _Now_ you tell no one what you saw or witnessed here.  _None_ of this goes in any of your logs and you will do your best to uphold the Temporal Prime Directive.”

 

“Like you did?” Tom scoffed.  “What we did just _violated_ your coveted Prime Directive!”   

 

“Tom’s right,” B’Elanna gave him a similarly scornful look,  “What the hell going on here?” 

 

Even Icheb, who had remained silent, felt the need to interject himself. “Captain?”

 

“Yes, Icheb?” Ducane addressed him like an old friend. 

 

“Have we not already violated the Prime Directive with our actions?” 

 

“To answer your question simply,” Ducane replied.  _“No.”_  

 

“But,” The young man turned the conception over in his head.  “ _I-“_ And then an idea suddenly came to him and lit his face in enlightenment.  “Oh,” He smiled.  “Now I understand.”    

 

“What?” B’Elanna put her hand on his arm.  “What, Icheb?” 

 

“A causality paradox,” He whispered.

 

“Yes,” Naomi whispered, meeting his bright look.  “That’s right!”  She laughed.  “It all makes sense now!”  

 

 _“Uh,”_ The engineer rubbed her temples in exasperation.  “Just tell me, what happens from here?” 

 

Ducane looked at the young couple with that irritatingly accustomed smile.  “Quite simply, Lieutenant, _everything.”_

Still perplexed, B’Elanna looked back at Tom whose own confusion mirrored hers.  “I’ve never been one for temporal mechanics…” He told her lamentably. 

A gnawing quandary still lingered and bit at Naomi and would until she got her answer.  “Captain,” She turned back to Tuvok. “Are we… going to _jail_ for what we’ve done here?”

 

Tuvok looked upon the young girl with soft, open eyes.  In her, he still saw the little girl with golden ringlets who ran through the halls of Voyager, heaping mischief and joy wherever she went.  He fell in love with that little girl’s bright-eyed enthusiasm and subsequently poured into her a devotion that paralleled his fealty to the woman he had just said goodbye to.   “ _What_ have you _done_ here, Lieutenant?” 

 

“Well,” Naomi looked confused.  “We stole-“

 

“If you remember,” He interjected.  “It was on _my_ orders that you retrieved the device.”

 

“But-“ Naomi eyes darted between him and Ducane as she tried to sort out the answers to her thousand questions.  “We weren’t-“

 

“Don’t you remember,” Ducane stepped forward with a padd that he handed to his colleague before he glinted at the young girl.  “Those orders came _directly_ from Command.” 

 

“Yes,” Icheb took her hand, understanding the subtext in the dialogue.  “Yes.  We remember. _I’ll tell you later_ ,” He smiled down at his wife as he squeezed her hand.    

 

Behind her, she could feel Tom and B’Elanna’s smiles coupled to the holographic Doctor’s palpable relief.  “Come on,” B’Elanna tugged at her hand.  “Why don’t you join Tom and I for dinner?  You too, Doctor, Captain.” 

 

“Gladly,” The hologram replied, doing his best to lift the collective mood.  “You know what I always say!”   

 

“No,” B’Elanna took Naomi’s arm as the band of friends started out of the transporter room.  “What do you _always say_ , Doctor?” 

 

“Well,” He qualified.  “This may be more of _a personal opinion_ after you _finally_ found a way to integrated the ability to enjoy food into my holographic subroutines-“

 

A comfortingly familiar grating tone coloured B’Elanna’s voice,  _“What_ , Doctor?” 

 

“A good meal soothes the soul,” He said matter-of-factly. 

 

“In that case,” Tom let a deep breathe out.  “I could certainly use one.” 

 

Naomi fell back as the crowd continued out of the transporter room.  “Captain?”  She looked back at Tuvok and Ducane with big blue eyes.  “Are you coming?” 

 

“Yes,” He told her softly.  “In a moment, Lieutenant.”  

 

“Okay-“

 

 _“Naomi!”_ She heard B’Elanna call. 

 

“Okay,” The girl gave a big smile to her captain and for flashed moment he once again saw that little girl with bright red ringlets cascading down her back.  “We’ll wait for you.” 

 

“Well,” Ducane turned to his fellow captain when the doors had closed and left them in privacy once again.  “I’m sure I don’t have to brief you on the need for discretion.” 

 

“No,” Tuvok nodded his head towards the door as they continued to the Shuttle Bay.  “You do not.” 

 

“I want to thank you again,” Ducane’s eyes were honest and forthcoming as the doors to the shuttle bay slid open.  “It’s been a pleasure working with you. “ 

 

Tuvok gave him a wry look.  “I would have to say the same, Captain.”  He looked down at the padd in his hand.  “But might I say, I hope never to see you again.”

 

The comment brought a laugh to his colleague.  “Likewise.” 

 

“You made a promise,” Tuvok stood tall and squared his shoulders.  “That no harm would ever come to them.” 

 

“Yes,” Ducane nodded.  “And it’s a promise I intend to keep.” 

 

“Will you tell me, Captain,” Tuvok pressed as the hatch to the shuttle hissed open.  “Why Kathryn Janeway?” 

 

There was that same cryptic smile.  “On the Relativity, we refer to it as _The Janeway Factor.”_

 

“I beg your pardon?” 

 

“The Janeway Factor,” Ducane let the phrase roll off his tongue and make him laugh.  “I can’t explain it other than to say that she is a creature all to her own.” 

 

“Indeed,” Tuvok raised an understanding brow.  “And Commander Chakotay?” 

 

Ducane changed his posture and walked away from his shuttle for a moment to regard his friend with piercing blue eyes.  “The Janeway factor isn’t just about one woman,” He paused for a moment.  “She could never be without him.” 

 

Tuvok gave him friend an understanding nod.   

 

“Well,” Ducane extended his hand in camaraderie.  “Goodbye, Captain.”  He looked back once before the hatch closed, “And thank you.”  


	168. Chapter 168

_“She is beautiful,” B’Elanna held the little baby as she memorised her dainty features._

_“She is,” Chakotay couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  “B’Elanna,” He swallowed once before he looked up at her and met her expressive brown eyes._

_“What is it, Chakotay?”_

_“It’s just so good to see you.”_

_His friend smiled.  “So you’ve said already. But it’s good to see you too, Chakotay. I feel like everything, and nothing, has changed.”_

_“Me too,” He looked down.  “You look happy.”_

_“I am.  With Tom, our family, my job. Life is good," She said quietly as she examined him. “You do too. Different, but happy.” _

_“Yes,” He ran his fingers through the mop of raven curls atop his head. “I suppose I do.”_

_“And no tattoo,” She pointed to his bare forehead._

_“No,” He glinted. “No tattoo.”_

_“Do you miss it?”_

_He shook his head.  “No. I don’t miss it.”_

_“It was such a part of you for so long.  As long as I knew you...”_

_“It was,” He nodded, remembering.  “I took that mark when I was angry, and sometimes I think I kept it to remind me to stay that way.”_

_“You’re not angry anymore,” It was meant to be a question._

_“No,” He smiled at her and looked again at the little girl sleeping in her arms. “I’m not.”_

_“You know,” B’Elanna laughed.  “I always knew you were in love with her.”_

_Chakotay shared in her laughter.  “It wasn’t really a secret.  I think everyone knew.”_

_“No,” She contradicted. “Well, maybe at first…”_

_“Our life,” His fingers came up to brush through the baby’s downy raven hair. “Has been wonderful. Happy.  But,” He halted.  “I don’t know what’s going to happen anymore.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I don’t belong here,” His voice was soft and sad.  “Neither of us do.”_

_“Well,” His friend tried to dissuade him.  “Of course you-“_

_“No,” He shook his head.  “We belong in an old house just two miles outside of Arcadia’s town limits.  We bought it because Kathryn fell in love with it,” He chuckled at the recollection as he met her eyes to tell the story. “I thought she was crazy when she told me she wanted to buy it.  You should have seen it, B’Elanna!  The shutters were falling off; the paint had all but peeled; some of the windows were broken and there were spider webs in nearly every corner.  It was dirty inside, musty too!, with all this old furniture that we had to get rid of! But we bought it,” He let out a sigh. “And we made a home together.”_

_“What else?” B’Elanna wanted to hear him and let his beautiful voice weave one last tale around her. “Tell me.”_

_“We have two friends,” He told her.  “Jan and Gregg. They found us when our shuttle crashed. I remember it so clearly. I woke up in the shuttle and Kathryn was still unconscious.  I remember scanning her and being relieved that she was okay.  The shuttle was leaking radion gas and all the environmental controls and life support had gone offline.  So, to vent the gas, I opened the hatch,” He stopped at the poignant memory. “And that’s when saw it.”_

_“What?” She goaded in quiet excitement. “What did you see?”_

_“Snow,” He chuckled.  “That’s when I saw snow for the first time.”_

_“Then what happened?”_

_“Well,” He remembered.  “I knew we had to find shelter.  So I picked up Kathryn must have walked over two miles with her in my arms until I found the nearest road. That’s when we met Jan.”_

_“Tell me about her.”_

_“She’s a doctor, and so is her husband, Gregg.  They welcomed us into their home and gave us a place to stay.  Even jobs,” He let out a breath. “We owe everything to them.”_

_“What kind of jobs?” B’Elanna sat next to him on the bed._

_“Well,” He laughed.  “We manage their camp.”_

_“Camp?”_

_“They have a camp for sick children during the summer.”_

_“Sick?” B’Elanna shook her head.  “What do you mean ‘sick’?”_

_“Lymphoma, leukaemia” He frowned.  “Things that you’ve never heard of because they don’t exist anymore.”_

_“Oh,” She nodded. “So you run this camp?”_

_“Yes,” He smiled. “And it’s wonderful. Being with children, seeing them happy.”_

_“It’s a gift,” She said._

_“Yes. But now Kathryn does most of the management.”_

_“And you?”_

_“I work at a school where I teach soccer and lacrosse.”_

_“You teach soccer?” B’Elanna laughed.  “You were the worst player on Dalby’s team!”_

_“Shh!” He nudged her, careful not to wake the baby.  “I’ve improved since then!”_

_“And you’re happy?” It wasn’t really a question._

_“Yes,” His smile was fit to bursting.  “Being married to Kathryn – being her husband, making a family with her… It was all I ever wanted.”_

_“And Kathryn,” B’Elanna looked out the clear glass to where the woman in question sat talking animatedly to her husband.  “Is she happy?”_

_“Yes,” He looked at her through the glass, his heart catching in his throat when he thought of what he could have lost.  “I think she is.”_

_“She is,” B’Elanna turned back to him.  “She is happy, Chakotay.  It didn’t take you long to get married,” She gave him a wink._

_“No,” He laughed. “A little over four months. We didn’t know she was pregnant when I proposed,” He remembered.  “It was a gift.”_

_“They are,” B’Elanna looked back down at the baby.  “A gift.”  They stayed silent a moment before she spoke again and asked the one question that was weighing on her.  “Will you stay?”_

_He let more stillness pass before he answered her again.  “No,” He breathed.  “You got home,” He glinted.  “And you were welcomed. That was all we ever wanted for you.”_

_“Yes,” A tear fell down her cheeks.  “We got home. And yes, the Maquis were welcomed.”_

_“We were afraid you wouldn’t be.  We were afraid-“_

_“So were we,” She recalled that palpable trepidation the crew had felt in those two years leading up to their arrival.  “But everything worked out.”_

_“I can see that,” He grinned.  “And you’re happy.”_

_B’Elanna’s smile melted into a melancholy frown. “You’re sure you won’t stay?”_

_“No,” He shook his head.  “What life would we have here, B’Elanna? Everything we knew here is gone, and who we are is obsolete. There we mean something. There we can make a difference.”_

_“I’ll miss you,” More tears fell down and wetted the downy fleece that wrapped the baby. “I have missed you. Every day.”_

_He nodded through his own tears. “We thought about you always.  Wondered if you’d gotten home, if you were happy. But you did, and you are.” _

_“I don’t want to say goodbye again.”_

_“I know,” He kissed her cheek.  “But just this once, let’s not think of it as goodbye.”_

_“Sort of an open ended ‘see you later’?” She gave an impression of a laugh through her sadness._

_He shrugged. “Why not?”_

_“You were always such a goofball, Chakotay,” She nudged his side again. “Will you promise me you’ll be happy?”_

_“Yes,” He vowed. “If you promise me the same thing.”_

_She only nodded as a lump had closed off her throat.  “I love you, Chakotay.”_

_“I will always love you, B’Elanna.  For so long you were my family when I had no one.” _

_“I know,” She nodded as they made their way out to join Kathryn and Tom. “Go be happy.  And don’t forget to send a postcard.”_

_“Hey,” He kissed her forehead ridges.  “I wont…”_

 

The tears were still wet on his cheeks when the beam of the transporter dissipated, leaving them in the cold morning air. In silence, he looked to the woman beside him and the baby nestled in her arms.  This was the first time he’d seen her tiny features in the morning light and he began falling in love all over again. 

 

“Well,” Kathryn took a deep breath of the cold air and looked around them.  “Home again.”

 

“Yes,” He bent down to take the two large crates on either side of him while he kept his vision on the little girl asleep in her mother’s arms _.  “Home.”_  

 

The baby started to move restlessly in her sleep and Kathryn was surprised she hadn’t woken yet in all the excitement. “Let’s go inside,” She shivered, holding the little girl tightly against the heat of her body. “It’s cold out here.”

 

“That it is,” He nodded, following in her wake through the snow.  “Looks like we got a few more inches.” For a moment, it hit him: the absurdity of it all.  

 

She looked to him with a broad grin. “Here we are talking about the weather.”

 

 “I was thinking the same thing…” 

 

“There’s too much to say,” She breathed, watching her step up the snow-logged porch steps as they made their way inside. “What time is it, do you think?”

 

“I don’t know,” He replied softly, setting the two big cases down in the foyer.

 

Kathryn looked around at their home. _Strange_ , she thought, that it had only been a few hours in this time when it had been over two days to them.  “We should call Jan and Gregg,” She walked into the living room in search of her phone, only to be completely unprepared for the sight that met her eyes. 

 

_Blood. Everywhere._

_“Oh, Chakotay,”_ Tears came to her eyes as the baby started to fuss.  _“I’m so sorry.”_

 

Walking into the source of the commotion, his eyes met a familiar sight and a bolt of terror shot down his spine. “We’ll get rid of it,” He breathed, spotting the phone on the table where he’d left it. “Forty seven missed calls.”

 

Nauseated by the sight, she fled the living room into the kitchen where she started unbuttoning her shirt. Hungry, the little girl blindly grasped and latched onto the source of her comfort. “What are we going to say to them?”

 

He took a chair and moved it close to hers before he sat down and wiped the blood off the sleek glass of the device. “I don’t know,” He whispered, cradling the little head against her mother’s breast while she suckled contentedly.

 

Kathryn glanced over to the refrigerator where their flight details were taped.  “Their flight just got in a little over half an hour ago.  They’ll be-”

 

The loud ring of the phone cut off her next sentence and he answered it immediately.  “Hello?”

 

“ _Chakotay!” Jan’s speech was pressured.  “Is that you!”_

_“_ Yes,” He put the phone on speaker. 

 

“ _Oh!”_ Kathryn heard tears of relief in her voice.  “ _Is everything all right? We’ve been worried sick ever since we got the call from the hospital.”_

_“_ We’re just fine, Jan,” Kathryn’s voice was similarly gravelly with emotion. “Are you still in Indianapolis?”

 

She heard Gregg’s reassured tone, “ _It’s so good to hear your voices. We’ve been worried sick about you. We’re just on the highway off exit seventeen.”  _

_“_ Well why don’t you come by,” Kathryn smiled down at the baby.  “We have someone who wants to meet you.”

 

“ _Oh!”_ Chakotay heard fresh tears in the older woman’s voice.  “ _Kathryn you’re just about going to give me a heart attack!”_

_“We’ll be right over,”_ They heard the blinker in the background.  “ _We’re so happy you two are all right.”_


	169. Chapter 169

A slow smile twisted her lips and a soft, nearly inaudible sound of gratification escaped her as she slipped on her pair of old, worn jeans. “I think these were the first clothes Jan ever bought me.” 

 

“They look it,” He chuckled at the ritual as she changed into her old clothing.  “Especially with the grass stains on the back pockets.”

 

“Hey!” She leered, walking over to him and the baby on the bed before she heard the sound of tyres on the gravel of their driveway. “I think I hear Jan and Gregg.”

 

He nodded once and cradled the baby against his chest as they made their way.  “Kathryn,” He stopped her before they made it to the front door.  “Are you sure?” 

 

“Yes,” She gave a simple nod and an assured smile. “I’m sure.”

 

A soft knock came accompanied by a familiar voice. “ _Kathryn! Chakotay!”_

 

Kathryn let out a wry laugh at what she had imagined would ensue.  But coupled to that delighted exterior was a niggling sensation of trepidation. Putting that aside, though, she quickly opened the door with a flourish of her wrist to greet her two friends. “ _Oh!”_ Jan’s kind face was a mess of tears and smeared makeup as she grabbed the younger woman and held her.  “ _Kathryn!”_

The wind nearly knocked out of her, Kathryn’s arms came up automatically and clasped her friend in return.  _“Jan,”_ She thought she had prepared herself for this moment, and in doing so she had paid it no mind at all.  And so she was correspondingly unprepared for the rush of emotion that suffused her as Jan held onto her. Hit with the familiar smell of her hair, the tones of her voice, and the shuddering of the small body against her own, Kathryn found herself crying in a relief she’d not let herself experience since they came home.  “ _It’s so good to see you,”_ She wept into the older woman’s hair. 

 

“It’s so good to see you, Kathryn,” Jan’s arms showed no signs of slackening their hold.  “The hospital called us this morning.  They said they sent an ambulance out and all they found was blood. No one was home.”

 

“I know,” Kathryn nodded as they moved into the house and shut out the cold.  _“I’m so sorry.”_

 

“I know,” Jan nodded against her shoulder before she pushed her away.  “Now let me take a good look at you,”  Jan’s eyes scanned her friend up and down before she let out a disbelieving laugh. “It’s hard to believe you were _ever_ pregnant!”  

 

“I know,” Kathryn let out her own huff of amusement before she turned back to her husband with the baby in his arms.

 

“ _Oh,”_ Jan’s hand flew up to her mouth as a fresh round of tears poured down her cheeks. Tentative steps brought her halfway to Chakotay as he showed her the bundle in his arms.

 

Chakotay was wrapped in his own blanket of tearful emotion as he showed the baby off to their friends,  _“It’s a girl!”_

 

 _“Hi there,”_ Gregg whispered as he reached out to touch the little nose. “Well she’s just beautiful,” His voice was gravelly as he finally let go his own tears of relief.   _"Just beautiful."_  

 

“Thank you,” Kathryn wiped her own eyes. “And I’m sorry,” She took Jan’s hand. “I’m sorry we made you worry.”

 

“We're just glad you’re all right,” Jan pulled a wetted Kleenex out of her pocket.  “Don’t ever scare us like that again.  I’m getting old, Kathryn,” She glared as smile started to peek through. “One more call like that and we’ll be in the ground!”

 

“Understood,” Kathryn shared her friend’s tearful gaiety, watching on as Gregg gingerly took the baby out of Chakotay’s arms and cradled her to his chest.

 

“ _Your mommy and daddy nearly did us in today. Yes, they did!”_ Gregg whispered to the baby who opened her eyes at the intrusion, but did not cry. “Well hello there,” He marvelled at her tiny features.  “My name is Gregg, but you can call me grandpa. In fact,” His voice was mock serious. “I _insist_ that you call me grandpa.”   

 

Jan came to stand beside her husband and peeked at the small infant, who turned her head to regard the new face. “ _Blue eyes_ ,” Jan caught her breath at the exquisite sight.  “Just like yours, Kathryn.” 

 

“I know,” Kathryn’s shoulders shook with baffled amusement.  “I always thought they would be brown like Chakotay’s.” 

 

“They’re perfect,” Chakotay joined the troupe. “She’s perfect.”

 

“Yes,” Kathryn took his hand and tangled their fingers together as they looked on at the baby girl.  “We can’t stop saying that!” 

 

“It’s true,” Jan gleamed. “ _Well, hello there,”_ She addressed the little girl.  “My name is Jan, and if he’s _grandpa_ then I’m _grandma_!” 

 

Fresh tears came to Chakotay’s eyes at their words. “Thank you,” Was all he could say, all he could _feel_ after everything that had happened over the last few days.   

 

“Why are you thanking us?” Jan’s worn, wrinkled fingers came up to wipe his sadness away before she kissed his cheek and turned back to the calm little girl in her husband’s arms.  “Our first grandchild,” She beamed up at him.

 

“I know,” Gregg’s face lit up. “Hopefully not the last,” He gave Chakotay a pleading look. 

 

“No,” Kathryn squeezed her husband’s hand in a promise. “ _Certainly_ not the last.”

 

“Kathryn?”  Jan turned away from the little girl to regard her friend soberly.  “Will you tell us now?  Gregg and I,” She paused.  "We've never asked.  But will you? _N_ _ow,_ will you tell us?" 

 

For a long moment, Kathryn gave her a lingering look as she considered what she was about to do.  “Yes, Jan,” She nodded once and took her hand as they made their way into the warm kitchen. "We'll tell you now.  And thank you," She said.  "Thank you for not asking before now."   

 

“Well,” Chakotay took a seat next to his wife before he took a deep breath.  "I don't know where we would even begin..." 

 

And so, in lieu of his thoughtful silence, Kathryn looked to him for another aliquot of reassurance, which he gave freely as he took her hand again.  And then, well, she simply let the words tumble out. _“Well it all begins…”_  

 

Just like an exquisitely unique and beautiful tapestry, so Kathryn and Chakotay’s wonderful tale began its weaving. Though, to anyone else, this tale might have seemed _wholly unbelievable, t_ o _this_ couple, as they held the precious new life in their arms, it was likely the most passable story they had ever heard. And so they listened with rapt attention and let the weavers cast their spell upon them. 

 

The End


	170. Author's Note

Dear friends,

I've thought for a long time what I wanted to write here and how I wanted to thank everyone for staying with this story for almost _a year_ now! Wow.  So much has happened in this last year since I began this story, and even still so much is changing as I end it.  

So I suppose I wanted to write an author's note for this because it was such a big project and it took up such a huge chunk of my time and emotions.  And I also wanted to explain to give you a rationale behind why I wrote this.  First of all, _thank you_ to everyone who read this and left comments or kudos.  I want to say how much of an encouragement you all are to an author.  You put up with all my typos and bad grammar and were so supportive even in lieu of all that.  So, thank you times a million.  

Two years ago now, over Christmas break after my first (or was it second?) year of medical school, I came across a Picard/Crusher story called 2011 by Ke Roth.   _Obsessed_ does not really describe my feelings for that story.  Only a little shorter than 2013, it captured my imagination and I read it over and over again.  I printed it off, downloaded it onto my iPad, my computer - _everywhere!_ And it read it whenever I could.  Quite simply, it captivated me and I wanted to give you all that same experience.  So, it is my greatest hope that I achieved that and could give you such a gift as Ke Roth gave to me.   

Nearly two years ago, when I came across the characters of Janeway and Chakotay, I became _more enamoured_ than I ever have with two fictional characters.  There is such an enigmatic magnetism to those two that I was just dying to explore.  I dabbled with a few short stories between them, but never reached the depth that I have here.  I feel that over time, my writing has deepened along with the way that I see the characters.  And I suppose that I really wanted to express that.  I won't go on for too long here and make your poor eyes bleed, but all I really wanted to say is thank you.  I don't know when I will ever have time again to write a fiction like this now with my life going in a completely different direction with residency just on the horizon and all the time pressures that brings.  

But again, thank you to everyone for being so incredibly lovely and supportive.  I could not ask for nicer friends.  

All my love,

Becca 

 

 


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